


The Path of the Jedi: Into the Force

by NiggleLeaf



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 65,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiggleLeaf/pseuds/NiggleLeaf
Summary: A boy from Earth discovers that the fantasy galaxy of Star Wars is not only real, but that he has the abilities of the Force; Part 1 shows his growth in friendships and the Force at the Jedi Academy, while Part 2 pits him and his Jedi friends against a mysterious band of kidnappers; canon and legends





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, and thank you for reading my story. I wanted to take this time to orient this story in the Star Wars universe. I myself have seen the movies many times, the Clone Wars and (most of) the Rebels series, and read a couple EU (Expanded Universe) novels (also some SW guides). So while I have a good grasp of Star Wars basics, I do not claim to be an expert. This story will try to thread the gap between pre- and post-Disney timelines, but deviates from either when necessary. The story takes place post Star Wars movies, and while references are made to previous characters, it features a completely original cast of characters. In general, this work is at its heart a story: a tale of characters and the challenges they face. Therefore, it is my hope that it can be enjoyed by Star Wars fans and non-Star Wars fans alike. To help you out, I try to italicize any new creature, planet, or concept I created the first time I introduce it into the story. All other foreign concepts are from the EU. Languages, such as Basic and Huttese, appear in the story and when possible is based on existing information, but since Basic is just English in Star Wars, it is based on something different, which will become clearer later on in the series.  
> I anticipate this as a trilogy of stories, this being the first in the series The Path of the Jedi. I will try to update weekly with new chapters, anticipating its culmination in September of 2018, with the subsequent books appearing in late 2019.  
> With all that said, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it.

Part I: The Boy from Earth  
Chapter 1: The Explorer

He heard a sound overhead. He looked up. Nothing. He thought about telling the others, but then, he thought to himself, it would be just like those crazy tin-foil-wearing-area-fifty-nine-crawling nut-jobs seeing things in the clear Arizona sky. Anyways, eyes back to the path.  
“Can we stop and rest?” his sister asked.  
“Yeah, alright,” his mother said. “Hey, Ken, Lilly needs a rest!” she called up ahead. The family put down their backpacks and sank down as the sun beat against their backs. He graciously took the bottle from his mother and took a few sips, while his dad made his way back. He poured some of the water into his hat and put it back on, feeling the beads of water dribble down his neck. He liked hiking, he really did! But why did it have to be so damn hot? The sun blazed with an energy out here that he just didn’t feel back home in Maryland. It seemed to streak to the ground faster, sear harsher and turn all the land red. He knew that some people liked it, but it always felt rather suffocating to him.  
“Why are we breaking?” his father asked. “We’re so close.”  
“Lilly needed a rest,” his mother said. She looked over the hazy desert. “We shouldn’t have taken this path. We’re gonna get stopped by a ranger, or you’re gonna fall off that cliff over there.”  
“Beth,” his father said. “There’s nothing to worry about. The ranger at the station even said it was fine. Just because it isn’t on the map, it doesn’t mean that it’s dangerous. The arch is supposed to be –”  
“O.K., O.K.,” she said, cutting him off. “Let’s just go. C’mon guys.” He caught his sister’s eye and they laughed. Their parents’ arguments were always entertaining, and his mother’s complaints about the prospects of his father falling off a cliff were a classic.  
After a few more minutes of hiking, they turned the corner and saw the arch. All four of them immediately stopped and stared. But it wasn’t because of the arch. It was because of the spaceship underneath it.

“Wait, so, are those some of those crazy alien-hunter weirdos?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth. They must be, or maybe it’s some science thing that looks like a spaceship.  
“Well, I’ll just go down and see,” his father said.  
His mother opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. “I don’t know…”  
“Beth, it’s no big deal. It looks fun.”  
“We don’t know what it is. It could be a government project or something. We shouldn’t just la-di-da down…”  
“The rangers would have told us; I’m just going to check it out.” He went down without another word.  
The other three members watched from behind a rock as his father climbed down. They heard him shout “hey!” to two people who appeared to be examining the ground. They suddenly saw his father and stood up. They looked wound up, like a cat in a corner. His dad seemed to sense this and stopped walking. He greeted them again and asked what they were doing. They still said nothing, but one of them touched his arm and the door to the spaceship opened. Out of the steam came what looked like a robot, or someone dressed as a robot.  
O.K., he thought, these people are clearly obsessed, and most likely unbalanced. The smart thing would be to turn around now. But all four of them stayed where they were, transfixed at the otherworldly scene. The gold humanoid robot continued walking until it was standing a couple feet in front of his father.  
“REE-teen AH-ma-neen…KAH-sut KAH-beese?”  
Oh great, they made up their own language, too. At least that’s what everything the robot said sounded like. His dad stood, looking nonplussed. Then he smiled and continued.  
“Hi! So…”  
“Hah-ee,” the robot-man said.  
“Yes. Hi.” Again, his dad looked confused. “So, is that a model spaceship? Are you guys into aliens?” His dad was conversing about aliens as one might chat about the weather. The robot-man stood, looking.  
“Yesss,” the man finally said.  
“Oh! Well cool! Was that, like, Klingon that you were speaking?” A pause.  
“Yoo,” the robot-man said, pointing to his father. Now his dad looked really confused.  
“Me?” his dad asked, pointing at himself.  
“Mee”  
“You?” The robot-man pointed at himself and pointed up. His dad laughed. “What, you’re from outer space?” Again, his dad laughed. The robot-man also chuckled mechanically.  
“Me from outer space,” he said, again pointing up. His dad chuckled again.  
“O.K. alien. Can I go inside your space ship? It looks really cool.” He started forward. The robot-man held up his hand and the father stopped. Another figure emerged from the ship, looking slightly familiar. The boy tried to think if he had seen this costume before…and then the figure turned to him. And he was suddenly seized with the undeniable understanding that this was not a human. He felt the presence of the other, a foreigner from a foreign land, a stranger not seen or felt on this earth: an alien. The figure seemed to ponder something as he stared at the boy. A slight breeze fell down into the depression and the sound of a faint trickle of pebbles bounced on the walls. Then silence again.  
The alien beckoned to the remaining family members and walked back into the ship. The boy began to stand up and his mother pulled him back.  
The boy looked to the mother. He could see in her face the creeping fear, the lingering doubt, but also the growing fascination.  
“Couldn’t you feel it? I think this is…” His mother was silent. He started to move and Lilly moved after her brother. Their mother quickly moved in front of her children as they marched toward the misty opening. The family followed the alien up the ramp.  
Who are you? a voice said in the boy’s mind. Was it was the alien’s? In his head, the boy answered back.  
Abel.

After an hour, the protocol droid was proficient in the English language. The alien often helped the language learning process, leaning forward in his chair to make a point, then sinking back into the semi-darkness. He certainly looked like an alien. His angry red skin, like the world outside, was lined with veins and he seemed part robot with some sort of mask obscuring his mouth and two coverings over his eyes like death. When he wasn’t helping with language lessons, he was continuing to stare at Abel.  
“Now that we can speak together,” the droid said, “my name is C-4XA, human-cyborg relations. We cannot, I am afraid, reveal our purpose on your planet, but –”  
The alien interrupted him and the droid translated the message. “It is helpful in our work to talk to natives. And I sense the light.” He did not elaborate. The droid seemed flustered, as much as a droid could be, that is.  
“Ah. Well, we are on an exploratory mission to chart a new hyperlane from Coruscant to Endor, exploring new life on the way –”  
“Wait!” Abel interrupted, looking at his family who had all noticed it. “Hyperlanes? Coruscant and Endor? Is Star Wars real?” But as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt foolish. Of course it’s not, these are actors after all. Though they certainly created an elaborate ruse. The alien, however, stood up.  
“You know these things?”  
“Well…yeah. From movies.”  
After they explained, the alien interrupted, “How is it that you happened upon these images?” But by this point, Abel had had enough.  
“O.K., I give up. I can’t keep doing this if you’re just doing this for fun. Tell me the truth, now, or we’re calling the cops to pick you up for trespassing on park land. If you really are from up there…we need proof.” The alien thought for a moment as his sister and dad nodded while his mother fidgeted. Then the alien removed a glinting cylinder from under his robes and clicked a button.  
“Does this answer your question?”  
The blue lightsaber hummed with life.

“You…you’re a Jedi.” It was his mother who spoke first. The alien looked to her and waved his hand at a cup. The cup lifted off the table, then flew to his outstretched hand.  
“Yes. My name is Master Ma Fenn.”  
“Hold on,” Abel said, concentrating on a forming idea. “You could have that cup on a wire or something.”  
“You are skeptical.” Then with a flick of his hand, Abel began to rise. His feet left the ground and he hovered two feet off the floor of the ship. It was a strange feeling, being weightless. Then he was gently put back down. Lilly’s mouth had fallen open.  
Abel’s breathing was a little uneven. “O.K., so…maybe…”  
“Skepticism is good, on the whole,” Ma said. “It allows one to examine, to understand…to look beyond that which is seen. But in this, I will ask you to trust. The Force resists examination, and every time Jedi try to probe its mysteries, it slips away again.”  
“To be fair,” Abel countered, “I doubt you, not the Force.” The edges of Ma’s eyes crinkled.  
“No, you doubt my existence, and by extension, the idea that life can exist beyond your world. Oh, not your planet,” for Abel had been about to interrupt him. “I mean the world of your mind. To you, I am a fantasy, this movie, and you cannot reconcile your fantasy world with a real, living world. And the connection between the mind and the body, between the possibility and reality, that is the Force. You doubt that there is a power greater than that of your world. And so I ask you again, to trust.”  
Abel thought about it. Trust in the Force? Do I actually believe in the Force after only stumbling upon these explorers two hours ago? But suddenly all the questions that were being constructed in his mind died, leaving one single thought. It would be so much easier if I just believed…and the cup in the alien’s hand twitched.  
It had drawn the eye of everyone in the room and silence fell. Ma Fin broke it. “I knew this boy could wield the Force from the moment I saw him. I felt it.”  
“What!” Abel started to pace. “Then why haven’t I been able to do anything until now? I mean, I’ve tried enough times to accio the remote across the room…”  
At this, Ma furrowed his brow. “Yes, this is puzzling. My powers are greatly diminished on this planet, a sensation I have not felt in a long time. But even without this effect, and even with your…” his eyes crinkled again “summoning attempts, you most likely would not have been able to use the Force. You never did believe in its power.”  
“What, so seeing is believing for the Force?”  
“Did my demonstration really make you believe?” Abel thought about it and was silent. “I should like to take this boy with me to begin Jedi training.” His family was taken aback.  
“What?” his mother piped. “Take him? Oh…I don’t think so.”  
“He would be able to return for periods of time. But it would greatly benefit both him and us to have him in our order.”  
She sank into a chair. She seemed ready to protest again, but then she looked around the room, at the wondrous world her son would enter, and she couldn’t help but let a smile creep onto her face. His father was pondering the implications and his sister’s eyes were far away. Finally, Abel spoke.  
“I am sixteen. Does that matter?”  
“That’s true,” his father said. “Don’t they usually train Jedi from a much younger age?”  
“We generally like to have them start younger, age eight for humans,” Ma said. “But many of our initiates, in fact most, do not start until later because with a greatly diminished order, for reasons you apparently know, we often do not locate Force-users until they are older. Abel will fit right in at the academy.” It was Lilly who spoke up next.  
“What year is it anyways for the galaxy?” She looked around sheepishly, embarrassed that she had spoken. “Well, the movies are always long, long ago.”  
“But they weren’t far, far away,” Abel said with a grin.  
“The year is 227 after the Battle of Yavin, which was the battle in which the first Death Star was destroyed.” They processed this information. In almost a last desperate attempt, his mother spoke again.  
“But, he at least has to come home for Christmas… Right?”  
“Students receive regular holidays. He will be allowed to come back to visit.”  
No one spoke. Abel saw his father holding his mother’s hand and heard him sigh. None of them knew how this should go.  
The Jedi master continued. “In the meantime, we should establish diplomatic ties with your planet’s leader and begin the process of cultural exposure. We could send ambassadors, and they could –”  
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” his father confessed. “It was probably good that you remained hidden here.”  
“Yeah,” Abel said. “For starters, we do not have a planetary leader. We have 197 countries, at least according to Sporcle, and every one of them has factions, and…well, at the very least, your arrival would kick-start the doomsday preppers to start shooting. It just…it would not be good. Trust us.”  
“Yes, this may be true. Perhaps…” Ma sighed, looking old. “Yes, things have been changing in the Jedi Order. It is certainly not what it once was.” He left that cryptic statement hanging in the air. “Very well, I will advise the Academy to accept your request. But I really do need an answer. We must return to report to Ossus in the coming days.”  
Coming days?  
Abel looked to his family. Two hours ago, he was on a hike with them on their family trip, their yearly traditional vacation. So much of his family was tradition. They were about as close as any family could be. Not to be callous, but Luke Skywalker’s choice was easy. Abel’s family was still alive, and he would be leaving so much of it behind. He knew that he was deciding on something so much bigger than a boarding school. He was deciding on a way of life, a path that did not include the traditions of his family. But he could not pass up the Jedi tradition, either. To be able to use the Force…and it’s not just about the physical power; he would be validating that there is something else out there. Nietzsche was wrong. There is something more out there.  
“I think…I would like to go.” He looked at his family, but especially at his mother. Her mouth was shut tight.  
“Maybe,” his father began, “if you would stay with us for a couple days or so…” Beth’s eyes shot wide and she tugged against his arm. Abel could hear her mutter things like, “the house is a mess” and “he could be a – for all we know.”  
“We really do need to return, but we could of course stay to learn more about your culture. We will leave the ship here.”  
“Ahh…” his father began, “that might not be the best idea. It’d be a long walk. Come to think of it, it’s too long of a drive for you to leave…” He began to think of possibilities, but Master Ma cut him off.  
“We will carry your ship.”  
“Car.”  
“We have plenty of room in our hull.” He motioned to another droid which – presumably – keyed in information and the ship hummed to life. The ramp pulled up and the doors shut them inside and Abel heard the distinct intake of breath from his mother. Looking out the window, he saw they were already high in the sky.  
The ship sped away and touched down near the parking lot. Ken got out and drove the car to a more remote road where he was able to drive it right into the ship, which then sped off to the east.

They decided on the story that Abel had been given a wonderful opportunity to study abroad for several years. That is what they would tell their friends when Abel suddenly disappeared from their lives.  
He had thought about confiding in his closest friends, but he decided there was no point. Would they even believe him? It’s not like he could offer proof.  
For he had tried to replicate what he had done in the alien ship, but try as he might, he could not make anything move with the Force. In fact, the whole thing seemed ridiculous when they arrived home to quiet suburbia. Everything was as they had left it: the couches in their normal formation, sheet music on the piano, pens exploding out of the junk drawer… Then the Jedi Master walked in through the door, removing his hood, his angry red skin and metallic breathing clouding the entranceway.  
Their cat, who had immediately started begging for food on their arrival, suddenly streaked away from this intruder. The master held out his hand. The cat turned back and tentatively sniffed. Then she walked calmly back and rubbed up against his hand.  
“Wow,” Lilly said, “she usually just hisses at strangers, and she never lets them pet her.”  
The cat started to purr.  
Abel shook his head.  
The family didn’t really know what to do with the Jedi who sat stoically at their counter. Any attempt at polite conversation seemed silly. For the most part, he was content to observe, probably noting the similarities and differences in our culture that he could mention in his report. He looked out the window.  
“Is it usually so hot and humid here?”  
Oh God, they were talking about the weather.  
They continued to answer his questions about their planet, and even showed him the Star Wars movies they had talked about. He made little comment on these. In the evenings, he returned to his ship which they had hidden in a nearby park that was never used.  
One evening, just before leaving, he made the announcement.  
“I will be leaving your planet tomorrow. If you would like to train to become a Jedi, you must come with me,” he said, staring at Abel. He nodded, then whisked out the door.  
It was late by the time he finally trudged up the stairs to go to bed. As he was about to switch off his light, he noticed his sister’s was still on. He poked his head in her room and saw her curled up, but still awake, staring blankly.  
“I don’t want you to go.”  
She was going into her freshman year of high school, and she had been looking forward to being in the same school as her older brother again. Now she wouldn’t even been on the same planet.  
Abel sat on the edge of her bed and leaned down to give her a big hug.  
“I know, I don’t really want to either.”  
“Then don’t.”  
“But could I really do that?”  
She shrugged. Then she smiled slyly. “I just can’t imagine you actually having the Force. Using a lightsaber.” She laughed like a hyena. “You’re gonna be so bad!”  
“Hey!” But he was laughing too.  
“You can’t even win a swim race, how are you gonna fight bad guys? You probably won’t –” But then she cut herself off and a shadow crossed her face. She curled up tighter.  
“Look,” Abel began, “I probably won’t even face that many bad guys. There’re probably different types of Jedi. Maybe I’ll be like a…researcher or something.”  
“Or a janitor.” He hit her.  
“It’s true though, I’ve been trying to use the Force ever since we got back, and nothing’s happened.”  
“Well, that’s normal, isn’t it? The Jedi said the Force was…weak here. I wonder what that means, anyway.” They both thought on it.  
She sighed. “You’ll be fine, Abel. You always are.”  
She rolled over to face the wall.  
Abel rose creaking from the bed, then Lilly whispered, “I’ll miss you.”  
He turned and saw her little hand outstretched. He took it and squeezed it. Then he reached over and pecked a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll miss you too, Lee-lee. Good night. Love you.” Then he returned to his own room for a night of restless sleep.

Abel said his goodbyes with his family and there were many hugs and promises. After all the questioning during the previous days, the actual parting was surprisingly easy. He left his family and walked with the Jedi master to their purring ship, ready to take them on a long journey. As he started to ascend the ramp, he turned and stared wistfully at the land. This was his planet, his world, and he was its ambassador, its son. He knelt to touch the earth one more time. The dirt slipped through his fingers.  
As he was climbing the ramp, Ma turned around and said, “It really is beautiful, this land of yours. What is it called again?”  
“Earth,” Abel said. “It’s called Earth.


	2. Basic Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation Guide:  
> And = like the English word  
> Tiloa = teel-OH-ah (just because the “ah” in unstressed does not mean it becomes a schwa aka. “uh”)  
> Kyrana = keer-AH-nah  
> Lena = LAY-nah; IPA [leina]  
> Lasse = lahss  
> .  
> New Concept  
> The Ray

Chapter 2: Basic Training  
.  
Ma wasted very little time in beginning his teaching. Sadly for Abel, it was all language. “You cannot learn if you cannot first understand,” he had said. Personally, he found that statement a little illogical by itself, but he let it go. Once they had a hyperlane fully constructed, Ma said this trip between Earth and the Jedi home world of Tython would only take two Earth days, but because it was still so new, it would likely take them about a week.  
“Which will give us more time to improve your language skills.” Abel found Basic to be a rather easy language to learn, considering it was literally an alien language. He did have the assistance of the translator earpiece which functioned like a mini translator droid, directly translating Basic to English directly into his ear. This is how Ma was able to converse with them so easily. But still, Able thought he was progressing rapidly beyond his normal ability. After learning about the past tense, Abel brought this up with Ma.  
“It is possible that it is easier for you because it is a human language,” the Jedi said. “While I do not understand the exact circumstances of Earth-humans to the others, it is clear that you still share many similarities. It is also most likely easier than you would expect because of Basic’s simplicity: it has been synthetically altered several times to make it more orderly. And thirdly, you are a Jedi, and as such possess far more mental ability than most.”  
That last bit had never helped me before…  
“Now foscus, etsala, duven, repeat…”  
As Abel lay down to sleep, he couldn’t help but still wonder if this was real. Yes, it looked like stars were whizzing past the window, and yes, droids were speaking in strange tongues, and yes, that alien had just closed the door without touching it, but… It is an easy thing, to leave your world. All he had to do was walk a couple steps. Leaving your worldview behind, now that’s a much bigger thing.

Ma also instructed him, of course, in the fundamentals of the Force. “Most of the students with whom you will be studying at the Academy have already mastered these basics…but it is of no consequence.” He let this hang as Abel looked up quizzically. “Some Jedi have spent their entire lives studying the ways of the force, only to move a teacup. Others, like Luke Skywalker, find the flow of the Force quickly and reach untold heights. Do not worry about your skills; what is meant to be will be.” Suddenly, Abel’s anxiety, which had already been throbbing in the background, came to the forefront.  
“Do you mean to say that I will be entering the Academy with others who have been practicing for years?”  
“It is either that, or introduce you to the beginners, most of whom are eight to ten years old. Either way, your situation will be uncomfortable in the beginning. But a Jedi must be willing to accept adversity, especially in the classroom. For if one cannot accept it in the classroom…” Abel was starting to find Ma’s pregnant pauses quite annoying. He sighed.  
“Yeah, fine, put me with the experts.” Ma made a scratching noise that he took for laughter.

With only one more day aboard the ship, Abel and Ma turned to a discussion of the galaxy and its peoples. “Your movies were fairly accurate in its portrayal of the galaxy,” Ma said. They had brought all six with them on the journey. “But you will be learning in much more detail about our galaxy in your classes at the Academy.” Abel blurted out a question.  
“Wait, what species are you?” For some reason, it felt like an almost invasive question. Ma, however, seemed to take it in stride.  
“I am of the people called Kel Dor and we come from the planet Dorin. I grew up there until I was discovered by a Jedi named Karog Ho when I was thirteen, ten in human years, and I have only been back once, to solve a rare dispute amongst my people.” Ma grew pensive after that and Abel decided not to press. Though he did think of another question.  
“Why are all the planets in the galaxy so peaceful?” Ma looked at him strangely and let out another hacking laugh.  
“You have seen your movies, haven’t you? We are far from peaceful.”  
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Abel tried to fix his words. “It’s just…on my planet, we are split into so many different nations and religions and cultures, and the idea of one united planet of one united people is so…alien.” He laughed at himself. “Are most planets in the galaxy so united?”  
“It is true that most are…though most have been under Galactic influence for thousands of years and have had to learn unity. But yes, I have rarely seen a planet so fractured as yours.”  
They lapsed into silence, both pondering their worlds. Ma was right; the galaxy was far from peaceful. But if he could learn how other planets had fared, perhaps there was hope for his.

By the time they touched land on Tython, Abel felt that he had a vaguely adequate grasp of the language. At least, it wasn’t any worse than his Spanish. It was his grasp of the Force that worried him. After the success of his first day, he had since failed to move the littlest crumb. Ma has assured him early on that the strange effects of planet Earth would probably still linger on him, but lately he too seemed a little dismayed. Now Abel was starting to doubt that he had ever moved the cup, and that maybe Master Fenn had moved it himself. He was not of the Force. He was of Earth, an anomaly in the universe, a place dead of divinity.  
They disembarked: and the world was alive. It seemed as if everything, each iridescent tree, every leaf of grass and all the kernels of the ground breathed. It was a gentle push and pull, like a great wind blew through the world which swayed in the breeze. The trees were like those of the west; great patriarchs of the land. The grass appeared as if at dawn, sprinkled with dew, and as Abel reached down to touch the stalks, he found them soft and silky, not sharp, even against the grain. As Abel looked into the deep forest, he felt the force of the planet wash over him and he began to breathe deeply. Does this planet have extra oxygen? He felt a gentle pressure every time he inhaled, and a lightness with every exhale. And the air even tasted sweet.  
“Come,” Ma said as he started to the right. Abel again had to stop and stare. He saw several beings clad in brown robes winding their way through sparsely populated trees, but above them, stretching into the sky, was a great tower set upon a mountain. The tower was like the trees. Abel hurried to catch up to the master.  
As the pair strode through the wood, Abel noticed several smaller buildings strewn throughout, reminding him of a summer camp. He felt the gaze of the other Jedi (he assumed), but it didn’t feel harsh, nor spiked with wonder. It was more like the detached gaze of watching a microwave: something to look at to pass the time, and unsure of whether or not it will be ready. I’ll probably need another thirty seconds, Abel thought. Always another thirty seconds.  
After ascending a narrow walkway with several switchbacks, Ma and Abel emerged into a clearing. Opposite them lay the tower, which now Abel could see was hardly just a tower. It was a whole complex, a temple, most likely, though it looked strange. The lower levels looked old, ancient even, with ivy-clad walls crumbling away. The upper levels looked much newer, built with a blue-tinged stone like ice. The effect was rather jarring.  
They headed for the main building ahead, passing into a courtyard flanked by smaller towers. The central tower resembled the mountain behind it, with a slightly rounded top gracefully expanding downward into a dome. As they padded across the stone, a figure caught Abel’s eye: one of those aliens from the Mos Eisley cantina (you know, the one that looks like a tongue) was exiting one of the doors on a side building. The figure held a brilliant orange flower in their hand, and the flower was singing. At least, that’s what it sounded like. Abel faltered for a second, staring at the alien with the singing flower. The figure caught his eye, smiled, and spirited away. Ma stopped and turned to follow Abel’s gaze and saw nothing.  
“Abel.” At first, Abel continued to stare, but eventually turned away. They climbed a set of stairs and entered through the similarly shaped grand doorway. They made their way through a series of abbey-like hallways until they reached the back of the tower. Behind the building lay a garden, even greener than the forest they had left behind. And in this garden sat a solitary Jedi.  
“Master Yul,” said Ma in Basic, “this is the initiate I told you about.” Master Yul slowly turned his head and looked to Abel. After appearing to decide something, he struggled to stand up, and, with the help of a walking stick, hobbled over to the pair. Abel thought he had a serious Yoda vibe about him.  
Or at least he would have if not for his height. The Jedi master towered over him, about as tall as an elephant, and he lumbered like one, too, his thick tail trailing behind him. The crown of his head arched back like a dorsal fin, while his chin filed downward to a point. His long neck and sloping posture reminded Abel of a turtle.  
“Abel Lasse,” he said, holding out his hand. Abel stared up at it blankly. “I am told the custom where you come from is to shake hands during a greeting?” His voice was raspy, but kind. Abel shook his hand. For a moment, a little too long of a moment, Abel thought, the Jedi continued to stare at Abel fondly, as if he were a long lost sibling whom he was remembering. “I am Master Yul,” he said slowly. His gaze wandered from Abel, perhaps lost in thought. “I teach all the Jedi, here at the academy. I even taught Master Fenn once,” he said smiling. “And she was no easy task.” Master Fenn stared at him impassively, but Abel realized something: Master Ma was female? Oh.  
Master Yul’s gaze returned to Abel. “Tell me, Abel Lasse,” he said, suddenly serious. “Do you feel that you belong here?” Abel was taken aback by such a question and said the only thing he knew.  
“How can I know that? I hope so.” Master Yul nodded, but then prodded.  
“Why do you hope so?” Again, Abel thought.  
“Because…because, well you’re Jedi!” he exclaimed, fumbling for words. “You are the good guys who represent the good in the world, right? You make good in the world.”  
“Move that rock,” the master said quickly, pointing to a small, fist-sized rock at Abel’s foot. Abel opened his mouth as if to protest, then shrugged. Whatever, if the master wanted to fail him right away, so be it. Abel steadied his breathing as best he could and focused all he could on his surroundings, on his feet melting into the ground, on the air across his skin, on his breathing. Stretching out his hand, he felt the energy in his hand fly to connect to the rock and he lifted up.  
The rock sat flat on the ground. It did not move.  
“No matter,” the Jedi master intoned. “It is no matter. You will see in time that it is no matter.” And he lumbered back to his space in the garden and resumed his contemplation. As Abel turned back with Ma toward the building, Master Yul was smiling contentedly.

“So let’s welcome our newest initiate, Abel Lasse.” There was a light smattering of applause as Abel flashed a halfhearted smile and sat back down.  
Last night, Ma had shown him to his lodgings, a simple room, dorm-style, in one of the smaller buildings around the plaza. Ma had to return to the council for “Jedi business,” but told him to be at his class at 9:30 in classroom “394” in “Wing B” of “the complex.” So naturally, Abel left his room at 8:45 in the morning to hunt around for this room and managed to get to the room with twenty-one minutes to spare, which he spent awkwardly hanging around the door, pretending to walk purposefully in a direction when someone happened by, until his other classmates rolled in. By 9:29, no one had appeared, so rather than risk being late, he decided to risk the awkwardness of sitting in an empty classroom waiting for each wondering face to see a stranger sitting there.  
What Abel saw astounded him; it looked just like a normal classroom. O.K., the desks were flat screens like computers, and the seats actually looked comfy, and the walls were peppered with more screens rather than corkboards, but the setup was the same. Twenty or so chairs and desks sat facing a main desk and screen for a teacher, with the desks arranged in five columns. Abel picked a desk somewhat in the middle and sat down. It really is just like starting a new school.  
After what felt like an hour, and around the time that Abel was starting to think he got the wrong classroom, a blue elephant walked in the room and sat down in the front left corner seat, looking down at his hands. Abel looked up, expecting the figure to engage with him, but he sat facing forward. After a few minutes of making sure he wasn’t seeing pink elephants, he decided to tackle the elephant in the room.  
“Umm…hi. I am Abel.” He waited. “I am new and I think I am in your class.” The blue figure turned around timidly, looking at the floor.  
“Lev.” He turned back around and said no more.  
Right, Abel thought, enough of that, and lapsed into silence just as another figure came swaggering into the room. Abel immediately recognized the species as the Kit Fisto-one, the Nautolan. He (or she) strolled over to a seat in the back and flopped on it like a throne. Abel continued to face forward, with the recent interaction with (Lev?) fresh in his mind. He finally tilted his head to the side to glimpse the new stranger. The green guy was looking back at him with an easy smile on his face. He quickly jerked his head, as if to say “’sup,” and continued smiling. Abel gave him pained forced smile and rotated back the other way.  
A Cerean male (another one he remembered from his lessons with Ma) tiptoed through the door and made to sit next to the Nautolan. Abel heard him whisper, “Who’s that?” “No idea.” “What, you didn’t ask?” Silence. “Idiot.” “Hello, there.” Abel turned around again.  
“Hi, I am Abel.”  
“I am Zek, and this nerf herder is And. From where do you come?”  
“Ah…Earth. It was only…” – Abel thought of the word – “made a week ago.” Zek looked confused.  
“Discovered?”  
Abel mentally kicked himself. “Yes, dis-cov-ered. Sorry, I’m still learning Basic.” Zek waved him off, but then his eyes bugged out to And’s level.  
“So you are new to everything?”  
“Well, not everything…”  
But before he could elaborate further, a girl strode into the room. She was the first human Abel had seen since leaving home. She had long brown hair and was quite pretty. She took a seat in the front row and began efficiently taking out her materials and laying them on her desk, while keying information on the surface of the desk. Hardly having finished, she whipped around and eyed Abel.  
“Hello, my name is Lena Morava. What is your name?” Before Abel could answer, And interrupted him.  
“His name is Abel, and no, he doesn’t have a family member in the Senate, no, he doesn’t like TFT, and no, he doesn’t want to join your study club.” Lena stared piercingly at And and flared her nostrils, then whipped back around.  
“Trust me, you’ll thank me later,” And whispered.  
Next, a cheerful girl with an interesting headdress came bounding in who introduced herself as Puli, who was then quickly followed by a quintessentially alien-looking guy who And called “Odo,” and a human male named Kay. The next student, an alien with blue and white striped horns, made their way to the back with And.  
“Abel, this is Tiloa; Tiloa, Abel.” They nodded at each other. “Apparently Abel is new to everything.” Again, Abel rolled his eyes. “Really!” she exclaimed. “Who found you? Where do you come from? Wait, you are human right?” But Abel was barely able to stammer out a response until the door opened for a final time for the teacher. Abel could tell just by the aura exuded by her. The alien quickly keyed in information to her desk and turned to Abel. “Initiates, we have a new student today. Please come up, Abel Lasse.”

Abel had to stand the agony of everyone watching him as the teacher, who introduced herself as Mea Kloop, described his situation. He could sense their disappointment upon realizing they had a complete novice in their midst, and he didn’t think it was a Jedi sense. Abel avoided their eyes by staring blankly at the blank back wall. Once she finished, he took his cue to sneak gratefully back to his seat as the door opened for an unexpected time. Rather than creeping in like he would have done, she floated in as if on a cloud. Her eyes lingered on Abel as they passed each other, but she soon looked forward and sat next to Lev. Abel finally found his seat after knocking into a couple desks and sat down, red faced.  
“Now, because we have a new initiate I hope you will all forgive me for returning a little to the basics,” Master Kloop spoke. Abel thought he heard a sigh escape from Lena. “Can someone tell me why we study what we study?”  
No one spoke until finally And reluctantly threw up his hand. “As Jedi, it is our duty and our oath to grow in wisdom, which is in turn grown from knowledge.” He spoke as if reciting from a textbook, which, for all Abel knew, he was doing. “To help the world, we must know the world. Healing starts with understanding.” For all of his blasé delivery, And still leaned back with a self-satisfied smirk.  
“Yes, And, nicely phrased. As Jedi, you will…”  
“You have to know how to speak their language,” And whispered to Abel. “Just make anything up and insert words like ‘wisdom’ and turn a phrase or two, and you’ll be fine. Even if you are new,” he said, winking. Abel rolled his eyes.  
“Yeah, well I cannot Basic speak much.” And chuckled.  
“Nah, you’ll do fine.” Not wanting to miss too much on his first day, Abel turned his attention back to Master Kloop. As he frantically copied notes on his desk, he couldn’t help but smile. He would normally have been waiting to start his college career as a history major. But here he was, copying down the history of the entire galaxy. And that’s no small task, he thought to himself.

“Hey, new guy,” And called after him. The class had let out and people were filing past Abel as he nursed his sore wrist. He hoped there was an easier way to take notes. “Want to come with us to get lunch?” Tiloa and Zek were following behind him. “Yeah!” said Tiloa, “C’mon, we’ll show you.” She grabbed Abel’s hand and started walking down the hallway. OK, then. They took a couple turns and eventually ended up in a large cafeteria. All in all, pretty normal. Well, except for the droids dishing out the food. And turned to Abel.  
“You do have money, right? Here, just give me a hundred credits and I’ll buy it for you.” Abel stuttered, realizing he only had twenty dollars and certainly no credits.  
“And, shut up,” Tiloa said. “Don’t pick on the new kid. Of course, it’s free,” she said to Abel. “And just has a little side project going on and apparently he has no qualms stealing money to help pay for it from innocent bystanders.”  
“Hey! I was just teasing,” And laughed as Tiloa smirked at him.  
They got their food from the counter, which had a wide variety of food for many different species, including a normal platter of what looked like rice and chicken (thank god). But Abel didn’t say a word until they got their drinks.  
“Blue Milk!” Abel yelled in English, his eyes going wide. “Ahh!” The others turned to him with raised eyebrows.  
“Wait,” Tiloa asked, “do you know about it? Do you have it where you come from?”  
“Well…I will try to tell you.” So Abel explained (and mimed) to them about the Star Wars movies and all the information his planet seemed to have gathered about the real galaxy in the guise of fiction. After And complained for several minutes about Abel’s description of Jar Jar Binks (“I mean, c’mon, why would a Jedi have ever hooked up with that guy?”), Zek grew pensive.  
“It is quite strange, though,” he said, twisting his fork on his plate. “I wonder how your people came to know this and why no word of your existence ever made its way to the Union and the Jedi. Even more strange is that you are a human.”  
Abel looked himself over. “I don’t know, I’m actually at peace with that aspect.”  
“No, I mean how humans came to inhabit your planet, and with such integration with the local flora and fauna. How long have your people existed?”  
Abel had enough trouble parsing through Zek’s bigger words (he only just learned the language after all), with also trying to remember science-y facts. “Oh…I don’t know, the planet is to be a couple billion years old, I think the dinosaurs were a couple hundred million years ago…I maybe think people a hundred thousand years ago…” At this point Abel was mostly talking to himself. “Maybe a million years? I don’t know.”  
“Hm…” Zek lapsed into silent thought. And looked around, waiting for someone to say something, then decided to plunge ahead.  
“Well, that was fun. So, when are we going to watch those movies? I want to see how they portray Kit Fisto.” He looked at Tiloa. “I wonder if they’ll bother to include your ancestor. She barely did anything anyways.”  
“She did more than your historical crush; at least she actually survived the Purge.” Putting two and two together, Abel looked up.  
“Wait, Ahsoka?” And groaned.  
“Ha! See, I knew they’d remember her. Tiloa Tano, at your service,” and she bowed dramatically, dipping her head tails in her food. “I’m not actually descended from her, but my great-great-grandfather was her brother.”  
“But she’s the first one in her family since Ahsoka to exhibit force abilities, so Tiloa thinks she’s her heir or something.”  
“No I don’t, I just have an appreciation for my family history, and its connection to the galaxy.”  
“I have an appreciation for history; I just don’t have delusions of grandeur.” Tiloa shook her head, staring at him icily. And decided to change the subject.  
“So far we haven’t been very good hosts. Let’s go show Abel around the farm.”  
The four left the cafeteria and emerged into the courtyard with the great castle/temple building to their left. They headed right, towards the front lawn and the outer forest. And led the way with Tiloa skipping behind him, and Zek took up the rear while examining something on his device. On the lawn was a class of initiates who were practicing lifting balls with the Force. Dressed in comfortable gray suits, they looked to be several years younger than Abel. One child had started levitating their friend until the master caught them. And Abel couldn’t even move a pebble.  
“This,” shouted And, “is the Field. It is often used for teaching Force techniques, from combat to contemplation, and it also helps magnify the wonder of the Temple when you stand at the far end so it will look great for advertisements.”  
“He’s just joking,” Tiloa said over her shoulder. “Besides, the Academy would hardly have to advertise even if they did accept just anyone. But I could see the appeal of making it look imposing for the Union.”  
“What Union?”  
“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t know that. After the rebellion against the Empire, there was another series of wars with a lot of different names for the ruling bodies, but that by the end of it, the galaxy was united under the title ‘Galactic Union.’”  
“Hmm, doesn’t sound especially…centralized.”  
“It isn’t really,” said Zek. “People had enough of a strong center after the Old Republic and the Empire and then the Sith Empire. So the Union mostly mediates between conflicts and ensures the common economic community. It shares a lot of power with the sectors and their Sectorial Councils and Governors.”  
Sounds familiar, thought Abel. Perhaps Earth’s humans really are connected.  
“Alright, enough politics,” said And. They had entered the forest which was interspersed with buildings, some small enough to be called shacks, and others that might have housed a football field. “The masters often use some of these buildings for classes, especially ones related to combat. The smaller cabins are for meditation, or reading, or drinking…” He let that sit a little as he winked at Tiloa.  
There were more students in the woods. One was literally in a tree, trying to climb with only one hand, aided by the Force. Another was bent over a small bush and seemed to be whispering to it, reminding Abel of the figure he had seen yesterday with the flower.  
“Are any flowers there singing?” And looked at him strangely and barked.  
“Are there any singing flowers? Ah, not that I’m aware of. There’s a plant on Kashyyyk that seems to sing when wind blows through it, but it’s more of a bush, really –”  
“Why do you ask?” inquired Zek.  
“Nothing, just that I a Jedi yesterday saw, a master I think, and he had a flower…” Abel trailed off, feeling stupid.  
“A master, you say?” said Tiloa as the ground began to slope and they were forced to hop down a set of rock-stairs. “If they’re a master, we would probably know them. What did they look like?”  
“Uhh…I don’t know how to describe them without sounding…racist,” said Abel sheepishly as And let out another bark. “Giant head like a tongue. Long, thin arms and legs.”  
Tiloa, who had been in the lead, stopped. “Master Iril?” She looked at And, confused. “What would he be doing here?”  
“Dunno.” On seeing Abel’s questioning look, he explained, “Master Iril is on the Jedi Council, I think the oldest member actually, and he usually stays holed up in the Ossus Temple. That’s the seat of the Council. He’s known as a recluse. Weird that he would come all this way and be so sneaky.” And quieted, lost in thought. “Oh, and by the way, he’s an Ithorian.”  
“Yes, that’s how we know it must be him,” said Zek. “He’s the only Ithorian Jedi, and non-Jedi are not allowed in the Temple grounds.”  
They remained silent the rest of the way down until they reached the landing area where Abel had first arrived. They moved past the hanger bay as Tiloa described the ships they had, and they visited the Crystal Lake, whose waters sparkled from the sun and were so clean to be drinkable. It was the purest water Abel had ever tasted, even a little sweet. Several initiates were practicing near the water’s edge or on the island in the middle where they fought and one after another got pushed into the lake. They turned left and followed the river to a great waterfall whose arc began near the tower of the Temple. Some students were trying to stop the flow of water, and one of them actually managed to do it until they let out a whoop of jubilation and it all came crashing down. They made their way back to the plaza and And pointed out what he had already realized: “left building, classes and cafeteria, right building, bedrooms” and they continued toward the Temple. Abel had been inside before with Master Fenn, and he told And so, but he shook his head sadly.  
“But you haven’t been to the Temple,” he said, resting his hand on a twenty-foot door. “Just, make sure to shield your eyes a little.” Abel was about to ask what that meant when And pushed the doors open and light flooded his eyes.

The light streamed through windows from every angle, especially from the tower which was paved with thousands of reflectors to create a cacophony of light. Pillars, unadorned, but graceful encircled the room, supporting upper levels the wound up and up. The ground was simple, with comfortable chairs and cushions dotting the arena-sized floor. The only structure that seemed adorned lay at the opposite end of the circular room. Abel cautiously approached it, noting the slight spring in his step as opposed to the hard feel of polished stone that he would have expected in a cathedral. He also quickly realized that the dazzling light subsided to an ethereal calm in the center of the room. The one difference was the object ahead, which was like a prism, as large as a human, with four rectangular faces that filed to a point at the top and bottom. It let out its own spiral of light as it slowly rotated around its axis created by the upper and lower points. Abel stared at it.  
“Amazing, isn’t it,” said Zek.  
“Yes…what is it?” said Abel, keeping his eyes on the spinning crystal.  
“We don’t really know. It was here when we returned to Tython and we built the Temple around it. It seems to be a relic of Jedi past. We call it the Ray. Most masters use it as a teaching tool, saying that we may find out own interpretation of its meaning, its symbol…its power.”  
“Is it, like, hypnotic?”  
“No, don’t worry; it doesn’t have a direct effect on you. At least, not usually.” He glanced at the others. “But it does have certain properties. It appears different colors to each beholder at different times. Like right now, I see mostly blue emanating from its heart.” Abel saw a reddish-pinkish color, though it kept flickering in and out. “But more importantly, no one can seem to move it with the force. Many have tried, but few have succeeded. The best any of us have ever done has been to change the direction of the spin, and only masters have ever done that. Then other times, it changes of its own accord.”  
“So why this place of honor when no one understand its purpose can.”  
“Well…” said Zek, “I think that is kind of the point. It is a manifestation of the Force. It does not always have a point.”  
“Technically,” said Abel, “it has two.”  
“Exactly,” said Zek with a smile, watching the Ray spin and spin.

The sun was low and the sky was a simmering orange when they left the Temple. Abel spotted a figure leaning over the fountain in the center of the courtyard who was dipping her hand in the water. He remembered her from class.  
“Hey,” he said in an undertone, “Who is that? She never got introduced to me.” And saw where he was pointing.  
“Oh, Kyrana. Yeah, she’s…interesting. A little standoffish, but pretty smart.”  
“Pretty smart?” laughed Tiloa. “You just think she might pass you in the rankings. She’s the youngest one in our class. She even almost bested me yesterday in our bout,” she huffed.  
“Twi’lek,” Zek said, sensing Abel’s question. “And she is not so smart, I have seen her scores. She mostly gives off that aura of superiority.” Tiloa eyed him.  
“Oh, and you don’t?”  
“Only because it is true.”  
“Ugh, why I’m even friends with you two.”  
“Because you’re just as obsessed with being the best as we are,” And said, elbowing her.  
“Well, except for Lena.”  
“Uhhh, no…” And flopped on one of the benches in a garden nook of the courtyard. “I don’t want to think about her.”  
“Why,” asked Abel as if preparing for a quiz, “do we not like her?”  
“OK, so, we joke about being the best,” began And as Zek rolled his eyes. “Well yeah, we mean it too, but just stop. But Lena takes it really seriously. She may be really friendly in public, but everything is just a competition with her. If any of us ever went to the dark side, it would be her.”  
“Well,” said Zek, “I wouldn’t go that far.”  
“Zek’s always nursed a soft spot for her,” And told Abel amidst Zek’s protestations. Abel looked down.  
“Now I feel kind of sad for her,” Abel started, but And cut him off.  
“No, don’t go feeling sorry for her. All of us here, every one of us is wickedly smart. We all care about learning and all that. She just… Look, remember what she did to you last year?” he asked Tiloa  
“Oh, yeah. We had our yearly tests, just for the masters to get a feeling for how we were progressing. You know, no pressure. But in our combat class, I actually beat Lena in our mock lightsaber duel. As you can expect, she was not particularly happy. But I couldn’t sleep at all that night and so I did terribly on my test in Empirics the next day. Now I can’t prove that Lena gave me something to keep me from sleeping, but I know she did. She even asked me how I slept.” The bench shook a little as Tiloa frowned.  
“Right, well, I’ll take your word for it about her.” Just then Kyrana got up from the fountain and made to the dorms. As she passed, Abel called out.  
“Hi. My name’s Abel.” He tried a little smile. She looked at him, almost calculatingly, and seemed to decide something. Smiling very faintly, she responded.  
“Hello, I am Kyrana.”  
“I like the braids on your…hair. They look cool.” Immediately, Abel realized that was a mistake, though Kyrana did not move at all. She spoke coldly.  
“These are my lekku, not my ‘hair.’ And my stekka are not ‘cool,’ they are my connection to my family. I do not appreciate being mocked.” And she left. Abel looked sullenly toward his friends.  
“Whoops. I guess that was a mistake.”  
“Yeah, you could say that,” said And. “Some Twi’leks can be touchy about their lekku and Kyrana can be touchy about…well, everything really.”  
“Don’t worry though,” Tiloa assured him. “I’m sure it will all be fine.”  
“I think it may be time to turn in,” said Zek, rising. “It’s getting dark.”


	3. Found in the Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation Guide:  
> Djelsic = JEL-sitch [ʤelsɪʧ]  
> Mein (Prada) like the state Maine  
> Yulier = YOO-lee-air  
> .  
> New Concept/Word  
> Yulier

Chapter 3: Found In The Forest  
.  
Abel fell into a routine. Every day was a different class; but only one, which was a nice change from the seven that he was used to. His second day was with Master Androv Djelsic, a Givin who taught Empirics. This class was basically math, science, computers, and engineering rolled into one; so, not Abel’s strong suit. Master Djelsic did not have Master Kloop’s (who was a Rodian, Abel later realized) sensibilities and so Abel was plunged right into analyzing probable hyperspace vectors of different types of starships. The third day was Meditation with the female Iktotchi Master Wolketna Yolin, who often launched into long and cryptic monologues, leaving some (And) nodding off. Thel Tul-Tik, a male Pau’an, taught Movement with graceful and precise execution and expected the same of his students who more often than not were lucky to even get their rock to fly in the right general direction. In Abel’s first day of Mediation, a class using the Force to connect to another being, both to influence and to heal, the male Yarkora master, Mein Prada, had a hard time trying to undue Tiloa’s “suggestion” to Lev that he was a bird. The sixth and final day was combat training with Kolika Pit, a female Ishi Tib, whose small stature and perky nature obscured her tenacity. This was perhaps the coolest part about being a Jedi, but by Abel’s fourth class, he was still a disaster.  
“Lasse!” Kolika Pit squeaked from across the room. Abel was splayed on his back from a particularly hard push from Tiloa, his partner for the day. Granted, she was one of the best in the class, but Kay had still managed to evade all of Abel’s attacks last time.  
He didn’t get up. He could feel the rest of the class slowly turning their attention to his crumpled figure. If only he had landed face down, he wouldn’t have to worry about his red face. Just like the previous thought, two eyes suddenly popped into his vision next to the incandescent light above.  
“Are we done resting, initiate?” Abel didn’t know what to say for fear of Master Pit’s sharp retorts.  
“Apparently not, I see, for your voice is still asleep!” Nobody laughed. “Arise, initiate,” she sang. Abel achingly rose into a sitting position before dragging himself up onto his wobbly legs. Master Pit stood across from him with a jovial smile on her face, which on an Ishi Tib looked slightly hypnotic and maniacal. He knew what she wanted him to do.  
“Attack me,” she said, still standing in a relaxed state. Abel grimaced, staring only at his teacher and not looking (don’t look!) at his classmates. After running through the preparation techniques (breathe in, orient yourself in space, ground your feet, etc.) Abel crossed one hand over the other and pushed towards the master with everything he could…and nothing. She said nothing, so he tried again. Nothing. She said nothing. He tried (did!) it again, loosening his mind into nothing, waving his hands around nothing only for nothing to happen a third time only for nobody to say anything and for him to wait around for nothing to happen and for a fourth time to have somebody, this body, to channel all things and everything, and to use all the power he could conceive of to knock this other thing back one inch (just one!), while his feet a stone and his breath a beat and his mind a still silent sea and his hands waving, twirling, winding and grinding until the final push (push!)…and nothing (nothing).  
He opened his eyes, not realizing his having closed them. The first thing he noticed was the little bead of sweat perched upon the tip of his nose as if ready to fall. The second thing he noticed was the actively repressed disappointment on the faces of his classmates who looked at his feet or at the wall and the fact that the master was just as he had left her and that the master’s eyes were beading into him under a furrowed brow trying to read into his mind or his soul or perhaps just trying to figure out a diplomatic way to advise the academy to delicately place this lost boy back on his home planet and focus on Jedi instead.  
“Very well,” she said, her voice returning to its normal clipped teacher mode. “We are finished for today. Until next class.” And she quickly twisted around to collect her things, leaving Abel looking at her back.  
.  
Abel thought that his room was quite comfortable considering its dullness. True, the only pieces of furniture were a desk, a table, a chair, another chair, a closet, and a bed. But the desk was just like the ones in the classrooms with a computer embedded on the surface. Abel spent hours on his first break day searching everything from Alderaan (may it rest in peace) to Zabraks. While the chair adjacent to the desk was quite rigid, the other chair was almost like a bean bag chair in that it was rather amorphous and able to assume many positions, which was supposed to be good for meditating. Even the closet was interesting, sliding open efficiently at the touch of a button and housing exactly fourteen sets of identical Jedi Initiate uniforms, which were composed of simple unadorned long pants and short-sleeve shirts. There was also one set of robes for more formal occasions. All initiate uniforms were colored gray: another neutral color, but not the brown of a full Jedi. And thankfully, the bed was plain comfortable. When Abel, who had been expecting a hard ascetic bed to teach frugality or something, brought it up with Master Prada, he laughed, responding, “Sleep is the greatest friend to a Jedi. We like our beds fluffy to keep our minds sharp.”  
In addition to the furniture, the room itself was inviting. Rather than a harsh white, the walls were a soft tan, like sand, while the rest of the furniture also had varying shades of brown. The window, which stretched most of the length of the far wall, offered a brilliant view of the verdant valley, and it had a set of blinds to keep out the piercing afternoon sun. He also had a sunroof which filtered light gracefully through his room, seeping like osmosis to every corner rather than shining down in rays. The floor was carpeted, but more than that: with most carpets, it may be soft, but your foot soon feels the hard concrete below. But the floors of his room were like firm pillows. Again, great for meditation.  
It was on these floors that Abel was to be found soon after his latest combat class. Not meditating, though, but thinking; laying down, with his head tilted sideways, resting on the backs of his hands. He had been half hoping that And would suggest doing something after the class to take his mind of his poor performance, but they trudged back to their rooms, so too did he. He was in the middle of doing one of those pity parties in which you read too much into the way Tiloa didn’t talk to you on the way back, but did respond to And, while Zek went off with Odo instead…when he heard what he was pretty sure was music coming from outside his door.  
.  
Unlike college dorms or hotels which had several levels of identical straight hallways filled with parallel doors, the bedrooms of the Jedi Academy were a mess. At least, it seemed that way to Abel. As he stepped outside his room to find the source of the music, he emerged into what seemed to be a small, circular anteroom. He proceeded to the throughway to the left and trotted up the set of stairs. The music was stronger here and seemed to be filtering down that curved ramp. This led him to another circular room, but this time it was a dead end with four doors. The music was coming from the last one.  
Abel started to reach out his hand, but then thought it might be too awkward of an interaction. He was just thinking that he might stand outside for a bit to get a glimpse of the person and pretend he was lost when the door suddenly opened. It was Lev from Abel’s class.  
“Hi, I was…lost.”  
Lev just looked at him blankly, his Ortolan eyes like black orbs floating lifelessly. Simply to break the awkward silence, Abel offered, “I liked the music I heard coming from your room.” Still, Lev stood there staring. “What kind is it?” Stare. “OK, then, well I’ll…”  
“What do you mean?” Abel, who had been backing away, turned back.  
“What?”  
“What kind…is it?”  
“Oh, I meant, what genre? Like, who is it by?” Lev certainly looked confused now as he fidgeted. His voice was what you would call nasal in a human, and slightly muffled.  
“It is music. I don’t understand what you mean by ‘kind.’”  
“Well, it’s just that where I come from, we have many types of music…from different regions, different cultures, and they have different sounds.”  
“All music has different sounds.”  
“Well, yes, but each type has a similar sound, different from the others.”  
“But all music has the same sounds.”  
Abel stopped again, and couldn’t help but laugh. Lev looked down. Sensing what his laugh had meant to him, Abel hurriedly explained, “No, I wasn’t laughing at you. I was…it’s just funny to me how different our ideas of music are.” And he gave a smile.  
Lev tilted his head upward, as if trying to spy something above Abel’s head. In thought? He seemed to be –  
“Do you want to hear music?” Lev had spoken so softly, belying his great stature.  
“…sure. Yes.”  
Abel followed him into his room, which was nearly identical to his own, except that Lev, who had been here far longer, had acquired several accessories and trinkets. The Jedi of today were less rigid in their outlook on possessions, so long as they never possessed you. Lev picked up one of these items, which looked a little like a periscope. He sat down on his bed, gesturing meekly for Abel to take a chair, and began to compose himself, as if getting ready to use the force. He lifted the instrument. Suddenly, Abel understood.  
“Oh, you were playing the music yourself!” Lev looked at him quizzically.  
“Of course…”  
“Well, I just thought you could have been listening to it.”  
“But there was no one else in my room.”  
“Well,” Abel hesitated, “you could have been listening through your desk.” Lev drew a sharp breath.  
“We do not hear music from recordings. It is…not good.”  
“Oh, is music…that sacred to your people?” Lev honked in laughter.  
“No. It is just not music. Music must be living.” As Abel pondered this, Lev put the lower part of the instrument to his mouth and began to play.  
It was unearthly. It was one part violin, one part trumpet, one part the noise from switching radio frequencies and a fourth part the sound when you wind your finger around a glass edge. And it was music like Abel had never heard. There was no beat, no rhythm, no key, the melody, just a cacophony of intermingling notes sliding and zipping from lows to highs, until falling and rising beyond the range of human ears. At first, Abel felt panic. He needed to escape, it was too much at once, everything would explode…he was starting to sweat, anxious, anxious, breath coming out in perforated puffs…the sounds were whizzing, clanging bells, bombastic sirens, alerting, hurting, cascading into a crescendo… And then, Abel felt it; the beat, the rhythm, the key, even the melody. At least, he understood that there was none and yet it was music and it was beautiful. It was the music of angels, of creators weaving the fabric of the universe. Abel laid back as if to watch the stars and let the music wash over him.  
Some time later, Lev finished and silence was there. The silence felt sweeter in the echoes of the music. Abel turned his head to Lev and said the only thing he could think of: “that was wonderful.”  
Lev looked sheepish and returned his instrument to his stand.  
“How do you get music like that?”  
He shrugged. “It is music, I don’t know how, you mean.”  
“Well, the mechanics, the composing…”  
“The mechanics happen simply for the makers, I do not know how. The composing…” Lev smiled. “Takes work.” Abel laughed.  
“You don’t say? But how to you keep track of all those sounds at once? And they go so many different directions?”  
“I have heard the music of humans. Is it so different? I am often confused by your music with all the notes and keys, all synchronized…”  
“Well, how do you keep your music from sounding garbled?” asked Abel, remembering how he had first thought it garbled in the beginning.  
“We hear it. If it sounds good, it stays. If not, we try something else.” So simple. Abel didn’t know how to respond, so he just shrugged.  
“It took me a long time to write that.” Of course.  
“You wrote that?” Lev jerked his head and sat at his desk, half looking out the window. Abel sighed.  
“I wish I was that disciplined and talented. I’ve tried to write songs before, but they always fell apart…not unlike my attempts at the Force.” He laughed sardonically.  
“You should not wish to be like me,” Lev said quietly. Abel looked up, expecting him to continue. When he did not, Abel gently prodded him.  
“You have been here only twenty-seven days. Nobody really expects you to succeed.”  
Oh, great, thanks.  
“But I have been here for 3,266 days. This is nearly 9 years. Although my 16 years is equal to 15 years for a human, because of my longer lifespan and slower maturity, I am still a walking failure.” Abel didn’t know if he should contradict him in solidarity or keep quiet. “No one expected much from me. Ortolans usually don’t make great Jedi. But my…” He cut himself off from this, remembering that he was still talking to someone.  
“OK, well, you can at least actually use the Force.” He turned around, hiding behind his floppy ears.  
“I…I couldn’t until I was 12. They…they considered for a while that maybe they had made a mistake, and that I wasn’t a Jedi after all.”  
“They told you this?”  
“No, but I knew. They had been talking to my parents…making visits…” Abel’s anxiety was starting to come back to him again.  
“So…what changed?”  
“I don’t really know. Well, I know what changed: Kyrana came.” Abel had realized, of course, that Kyrana was the only one in their class who seemed to be friends with Lev. “She was only nine at the time, but she had already advanced to my class. The others in my classes were…mean. She was nice.” He was lost in thought.  
“But how…how did you use the Force?”  
“Things moved as I slept. When I would wake up, my chair would be in the middle of the room or my desk askew. Eventually, I realized it was me using the Force while sleeping and soon I could move pebbles while awake. Of course, I haven’t progressed much since. I do try, though. Even a failure keeps trying.” Abel looked up.  
“Well, that’s it then. I’m pretty sure the definition of failing where I come from has to do with giving up. I don’t think you’re a failure.”  
The blue creature turned slowly to face Abel, his ears flopping pitifully as he tilted his head. He looked to him. “I do not think you know me well enough.”  
“It…it’s a lot like your description of music. You said if it’s not good, you try something else. Well, then the reverse must be true. By not tossing you out, you must be pretty good, like your song.” Lev tilted his head thinking, once again seeming to look at something above Abel’s head.  
“Then you are also like your music. You say you have different types? So you are not like me or Kyrana or And. You have your own kind of song.” Abel laughed at the philosophical juvenility of the comparisons, but Lev remained thoughtful.  
.  
The next day, Abel sat in the courtyard outside his room trying to read about Bothan politics. He soon gave up, however, in favor of watching the other initiates practice with the Force. There was Lena Morava, the queen of the class, over by the Temple in a perfect meditating pose lifting objects without lifting her eyelids. Another group of three was over by the fountain, making the water change directions. And just across the stone surface sat a little human girl of all of about nine levitating a frog. She would start levitating the frog from the ground, then just as the frog reached a little over her head, she would lose it, and it would start to hop away, only for her to catch it again with the Force and start the process over again.  
Abel shifted his position and returned to his reading. In 334 BBY, the chancellor of Bothawui began to favor Clan Khrev’an above his own in order to secure the allegiance of… Abel looked up again towards the great green field where he heard shouts as one initiate apparently had tried to launch another initiate into the air to catch a yulier, one of the slow flying creatures native to Tython which have an innate ability to repel some minor Force attacks. The yulier evidently did not appreciate the failed attempt and flew higher, passing through the clouds. The clan, however, was insignificant in stemming the tide of centralization… Down in the valley, he could see a couple of initiates trying to ride a varactyl. They were apparently very temperamental mounts and to ride one for most not-natives of Utapau required exceptional bonding via the Force. One of them had finally managed to stay on and was showing off by directing the varactyl to run across the near-vertical rock walls. Abel could hear the laughter echoing from where he sat.  
Suddenly, he stood up and went inside to deposit his reading, then returned out the door and headed right towards the Temple. He passed the Temple, then passed the Temple Garden where he had met Master Yul his first day. He continued climbing through the woods, lifting himself over rocks and hiking through dense weeds. There was no path here.  
Rock. Rock. Kicked that rock. Rock ‘n roll, it rolled away. A rock that gathers no moss, or something. Yep, I don’t have no moss. Nothing. Stupid, stupid, methinks. Stop, ew. Just think about… Blue and the long. Like that waterfall up there. How high? Yeah, I’d rather not, she probably. She definitely, urrrgh! Thump, thump, trudge, trudge, trudge-y trudge. The thumps on the bumps on the log. Just a bump on a log. Dirt, dust. To dust you shall return. Am I my brother’s keeper? Branch askew. Perhaps a vine. Not a vin. A drunken Jedi? Ha. Blows nose. Nose goes. I must not have. Nothing. Stop it! Just. You thought wrong. A dreamcatcher, it wasn’t meant. The grass is green. Catch me!  
Abel fell onto a small patch of cool grass covered in dew from the mist of the waterfall which tumbled beyond the spindle trees delving down into the depths below. Supposedly to the river to the lake. He laid back, eyes to the tree tops, where the sun was obscured; instead, a pinkish glow wafted through the forest. Again, he breathed in that Tython air, so unlike anything he had breathed on Earth; the air itself seemed living. He kept drawing breaths and he began to feel his clothes soaking up the wetness from the grass. And a fine mist flitted across his face. He yawned. He rose again, sitting up.  
Before him was a single, solitary flower. At least it seemed that it was a flower, for it was mostly closed, with a hint of its orange inside peeking through. He looked at the flower. He then quickly looked around, wary of interlopers. But of course he was alone. No one would be up here. He readied himself, feeling stupid, and looked at the flower once more.  
His song was hesitant. He made up melodies and words, trying to coax the flower to open up to his song. He tried to imitate the song he had heard that Master (Ithil?) sing earlier. His hesitancy was leaving him. He was singing more confidently, like he used to back home. His voice had never felt so clear, so clarion, it was drumming, it was humming and wailing and sighing and reverberating, beauty so; it was climbing, reaching its crescendo where the flower would…  
The flower sat there. Unmoved.  
This whole thing was stupid. He didn’t know what he was doing. He couldn’t master the Force their way, and he couldn’t seem to do it this way. He closed his eyes.  
He thought about home. He would likely be back there soon. Perhaps his sister was coming home from school, the school where he used to go to. His friends would also be in school, creating inside jokes without him. He thought about them and his friends here. He would leave them too. That’s how it was with these things. Your world is created anew, you have friends for that year. It is a very good year. Then things end, people leave. This new world would simply be another one gone. He thinks about his mother and his father. He thinks about his family. He thinks about home. In that world, at least, we know the Force is dead. A flower is just a flower, and grass is only grass. But they are wonderful there, he remembers. There is no Force, but there is such beauty as to make one cry. He does but a little. He feels warm as he knows. It is not so bad after all at the ending of things.  
Opening his eyes, he sees the sun melting through the leaves of the trees, creating that wonderful shade of green. The sun is blazing through in brilliant streams. And the flower is awake. Abel looks around. Flowers break into blossom throughout the forest and the grasses reach upwards toward the light and the trees bend down to meet them. Things are alive and call to one another. The Force is alive here. He looks down at his hands, his own hands that brought it. Abel barks a laugh so loud that even the roar of the water cannot drown it.


	4. Lost in the Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation Guide:  
> Doryo = DOOR-yo  
> Levenbro, LEV-en-bro, with a flipped ‘r’ and rounded ‘o’ almost like ‘oo’  
> .  
> New Concept/Word  
> Doryo  
> Orskú

Chapter 4: Lost in the Forest  
.  
They were in Master Prada’s class and Abel could finally contribute with his new found force abilities. He had run excitedly back to tell his friends what he had found in the forest and demonstrated by waving the grass on the lawn. They were equally excited that he had finally found his connection to the Force. He was soon able to extend his connection to non-living things, like the old levitating-the-stone trick. This did not go unnoticed by the master.  
“Oho! Abel, do I see that you have succeeded in reconnecting your rock?”  
“Yes, master.” For today’s lesson, they were reuniting two halves of a rock that Master Prada had split. What may seem simple was actually quite hard, especially for a novice like Abel. You had to hold the pieces together exactly, with each grain of rock in its places, and repair them with water and the aid of the Force. While people like And and Lena had finished twenty minutes ago, Abel was pleasantly surprised to realize that he had mended his rock quicker than Lev or Odo. Odo was brilliant, especially when it came to science, but he sometimes had a hard time with these kinds of exercises. And Lev was Lev.  
“Look at you, Force-user.” Tiloa had sauntered over from her game of doryo with And. The teachers usually encouraged games when they were done with their exercise. “Not too bad.”  
“Not too bad? It was perfect,” Abel said, panting. Truth be told, it was a little shoddy.   
“Well, you did manage to bypass the normal binding techniques nicely. I am a little jealous; you didn’t have to go through that boring unit like we did.” He knew she was trying to make him feel better, and he appreciated it. Still, it was true. Most of them had spent years mastering the elementals of force-using and he was having to pick up years of training as he went along. Well, he thought, not unlike Luke Skywalker on Dagobah. He rolled his eyes at himself. OK, bad comparison.   
“C’mon,” she said. “Let’s go play. And’s probably about to finish Kay off by now.”  
The other human male, Kay, sat in stern concentration facing And who was reclining on his back, eyes closed, arms folded behind, supporting his head. Between them was a board lying flat on the ground and another board perpendicular to it standing straight up, bisecting the flat board. Round pieces lay strewn across both sides of the boards, and some were even floating in mid-air. Abel thought it looked a little like Battleship…except for the floating pieces part.   
“It’s based off the popular game in the galaxy, but doryo is a specific variant only for force-users,” Tiloa explained. “While the other game is mostly a game of chance, doryo necessitates a force-user to sense his or her opponent’s pieces on their board, while at the same time continuing to levitate his or her own pieces in the air. It’s supposed to teach us how to split the mind in concentration and to keep it in balance.” Kay moved a piece to levitate in the air.  
“But what it really teaches us,” And said, smiling, “is how to be a jerk to our friends.” He levitated a piece into what was apparently a winning move as the board lit up and Kay moaned in frustration.  
“Check-mate,” Abel said.  
“What?”  
“Never mind.”  
“Wanna play?” And said with a glinting smile.  
“Against you? Nope.”  
“Oh, come one! OK, we’ll play as a team against Zek, he loves losing. Zek! Get over here!” Zek was meditating under one of the trees.  
“Why?”  
“We need you to play a game of doryo to teach Abel, and Tiloa doesn’t like losing!”  
“I’m busy!”  
“He’s always like this, you have to coax him,” And muttered to Abel. He made a little motion with his hand and Zek popped out of his seat fell forward onto his face. “See, he just needs a little push.” Zek came stomping over, a sullen look on his face.  
“I was at perfect peace over there until you ruined it,” Zek quipped.  
“No you weren’t, I saw you. You kept batting away at bugs and readjusting your feet. Just cast the board.”  
Zek continued starring coldly at And as he lifted all forty pieces into the air, then let them fall back down naturally. Abel saw their twenty pieces land haphazardly across their bottom board. “OK,” And began. “The object of the game is to get all your pieces in perfect balance on both of your boards, another way of saying that they be symmetrical at all angles.” OK, this was already weird. “Each piece can only move one square at a time, except for the ones ‘in space’ which can move anywhere, but can only move to a board on their direct axis, and that counts as one move. These ‘flying’ pieces are used to block your opponent; they cannot move to the square that is on the same horizontal axis as your flying piece. We move first, so I would suggest moving that piece there up to the top board.”  
Abel found the beginning of the game exceedingly dull. Twenty moves had gone by, and And hadn’t even suggested taking Zek’s game-plan into account.  
“Most people, even Jedi, don’t have the patience for the early game. A winning game is all about the set-up, getting your pieces into a formation you think will be able to win.”  
“Basically,” Zek interjected, “he’s the only one competitive enough to care that much.”  
And looked like was going to object, then subsided. “True.”  
They continued for a little while longer until And whispered. “OK, now you should probably look and see what Zek’s been up to. It’s pretty pitiful, but still.” Zek glanced up and made a face while Abel tried to extend his mind with the Force and ‘see’ his opponent’s board. He tried for a minute or so and got nothing. Finally, And interrupted.  
“Here, concentrate on our pieces. You know where they are, you can see them with your eyes. Learn how they feel to your mind’s eye.” Abel took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he lapsed again into darkness. OK, I know we have a piece there. Where is it, where is it? He felt a gentle pressure, seeing (or feeling?) a small pinkish dot. Excited, he moved his gaze slowly to the left. Another pinkish dot! He began to widen his gaze, momentarily losing any sense. He calmed himself once more, then there it was: a whole array of their pieces, in space, in his mind’s eye. And it was much easier to see the image that And was creating with their pieces; he saw what he was hoping to do! At least, he thought he did. He tried extending his gaze across to Zek’s pieces. It was fuzzy, but he was pretty sure he knew the basic shape that Zek was going for…and it looked like he only needed two more moves!  
“And,” he said, flicking his eyes open. “I think he’s about to win!” And laughed.  
“Yeah, he thinks somehow I wouldn’t notice his flying piece to the left. Such a simpleton.” And levitated a piece, then Zek cautiously moved another piece, making him one move away from victory. But And had thought of this and moved his piece over to block. All at once, Zek’s strategy was destroyed. From one miscalculation.  
“That’s always the problem with the others,” And said, moving again. “They try so hard to get the perfect stratagem.” Zek dropped a flying piece to the top board. “They don’t realize how obvious it is.” And brought another flyer over. “The whole point of this game is flexibility.” Zek moved to the left. “Flexibility of the mind.” And moved. “Flexibility of the strategy.” Zek moved. “Flexibility as a strategy.” And moved. “The point is” (Zek moved) “to not let them know” (And moved) “what you’re doing” (Zek moved) “until you’ve won. Ah.” And moved and the board glowed.  
“That’s all well and good to say that,” Zek said, sweating. “It’s a whole other thing to do it.” And laughed.  
.  
The next day was a day Abel had been silently dreading since his awakening (that’s what he had decided to call it). It was his first combat class since then. And he was determined not to make a complete fool out of himself. Not this time.  
They had marched to the raised dais in the valley which was about the size of a basketball court and stood about eight feet off the ground. There they had been divided into two teams and told that the goal was to knock the opponents off the other side using the Force. So basically just dodge ball, thought Abel, just substituting balls with the Force. What Abel had thought would be a quick game turned into a grueling affair. Most of them proved quite adept at anticipating each other’s strikes or blocking them together when they struck. After the first ten minutes, Abel’s team succeeded in forcing Puli off the platform, and soon pushed Kay off, as well. Abel had thought they were doing pretty good, but he had thought too soon and forgot to knock on wood. The remaining Lena, Tiloa and Zek were slippery and succeeded in isolating And, where they were able to push him off. This left Abel with only Kyrana, Odo and Lev. Kyrana and Odo had tried to spearhead a counteroffensive, but Odo overextended and ended up pushed off. Sensing they would quickly strike the exposed Lev, Kyrana whipped over to protect him, but not before he was pushed off. Abel saw that Kyrana was now completely defenseless and moved to stand over her and field attacks. To his surprise, he dodged attack after attack then suddenly let loose a torrent of the Force, creating a temporary shield between the two sides, leaving Kyrana a chance to get up. Hardly giving him a look, she skipped and danced her way across the platform, launching push after push until the other three were thrown off.  
They had won, somehow. Abel hadn’t looked the fool; in fact, he had pulled off some pretty great moves. Somehow. He was congratulated by his team and wholeheartedly by his opponents Tiloa and Zek; they were just so impressed. He’d even earned a small nod from Kyrana.  
“So, now that you can actually fight and stuff,” Tiloa said, as they strolled back from class. “You should come to our hunt tonight.”  
“Oh, is that still happening?” Zek asked, lazily.  
“Yes! We’ve been trying to for months, but every time…”  
“Last time was not my fault,” And snapped, for Tiloa had been looking at him. He was a little short because Tiloa had been the one to push him off the edge. “How was I supposed to remember that Master Kloop had assigned us that research?”  
“I don’t know, maybe by actually keeping track of assignments?”  
“Anyways, the time before that it was you who…”  
“The point is,” Tiloa said, cutting him off. “Once a month, the moon Ashla is full and during those times, orskú crystals are visible in certain caves on Tython. They’re sort of like Kyber crystals, very powerful for Jedi, thought don’t try to make a lightsaber out of them.”  
“Is that what that giant floating crystal thing in the Temple is made out of?” asked Abel.  
“The Ray? No that…that’s something different.” Tiloa was lost in thought.  
“These orskú crystals can be used especially as a reservoir of the Force,” Zek said, picking up the thread of conversation. “It can help to open channels if you are weak or disorganized. It helps to calm and focus.”  
“So what, you just want to go out at night and get some crystals?”  
“Yep,” said And. “Again, they can only be found when Ashla is full and Bogan isn’t in the sky, which happens every hundred days on Tython. We went once two years ago, but didn’t find any. We’ve had a couple opportunities since, but our plans have fallen through, not only by me!” he said pointedly at Tiloa who sniffed.  
“Last time we were just traipsing along like a bunch of idiots,” Zek said. “This time, though, we’ll be going in with a bunch of research under our belts. We’ve learned where exactly the most likely places are to find them and have two particular spots in mind, based off seismic readings of the surrounding area.”  
“And the academy is fine with us just ‘traipsing’ along in the woods after dark?”  
“Well…” said Tiloa. “They didn’t stop us last time.”  
“We think it’s just another ‘learning experience,’” said And.  
“So, will you come?” asked Tiloa energetically.  
“I’ll…I’ll think about it.”  
.  
The sun had set hours ago. Abel was still lying down in his bed in the darkness, watching the shadows of the trees outside creep up on the opposite wall. Every so often his comlink would buzz and a blue light would blink in the room. It had just done it again. He rolled over to face the wall.  
We really shouldn’t.  
Does it really matter though? Like they said, the masters probably know and just don’t care.  
It sounds dumb anyways. Sneaking through the forest, late at night, for a crystal?  
Who cares? Just bite the bullet; go make friends.  
I’ve already made friends. It’s fine if we have different…interests.  
I don’t know why you’re being so difficult.  
Neither do I, really. I just don’t like it.  
If you say that you have a bad feeling about –   
Shut up. I didn’t say that. I just don’t feel like going. I need my sleep.  
Fine, then go to sleep.  
I’m not tired.  
BANG, BANG, BANG!  
The sudden knocking on his door made Abel twitch, instantly stopping his Smeagol-Gollum monologue. He got up cautiously, a little disoriented, and flipped the light on. He padded across the room and opened the door a crack.  
Four figures came striding in to his room, pushing Abel out of the way.  
“Fiiinally, don’t you ever answer your messages?” And complained. He and Tiloa were glaring at him while Kay laughed and Kyrana hovered awkwardly in the background. “So, ready to go?” Abel still didn’t know what to say.  
“Where’s Zek?”  
“Ugh, that nerf head decided he’d rather sleep than come with us, can you imagine?”   
Kind of.  
“But I knew our new friend Abel wouldn’t be so boring, so I figured we’d extend a formal invitation. You ready to go…how do they say it in your language…booshwacking?”  
Abel chuckled. “Close enough.” Abel paused and they all looked at him expectantly. “Yeah, about this…”  
“I told you ‘ee would not want to come with us.” It was Kyrana, of course, with her vaguely French-sounding accent. Abel made up his mind.  
“No, of course I’m coming. I was just trying to get a quick nap and was still groggy from it when you guys barged in. Rude.” And smiled.  
“Well, we wouldn’t have had to if you had just set an alarm.” Tiloa shook her head and Kay motioned to the door.  
“So, off we go.”  
“Let us away!” And proclaimed. With a flourish of And’s hand, they went off into the night.  
.  
The forest of Tython was a different place at night. The richness of the senses from so much life that was invigorating during the day grew cloying and the gentle swell and release, the feeling of breath in the air turned eerie, a sense of watchfulness. Or maybe it was just Abel’s sense that they were trespassing where they should not be. The joyous laughter and conversation which had echoed around them when they first started had fizzled into a murmur. And was leading the way, supposedly with instructions from Zek who had found the sites, and Tiloa was helping him read it. Abel found himself keeping pace with Kyrana, and looking at her, he realized something.  
“Wait, why isn’t Lev here? Didn’t he want to come?” At first, Kyrana didn’t seem to register that she had heard. But when Abel was about to repeat his question, she interrupted.  
“Levenbro was not invited.”  
“He – wait, Levenbro?”  
“That is his name.”  
“Oh, OK… Well, again, why was he –”  
“The others, your friends, are not ‘is friends, nor they, his. They would not trust him on a mission such as this.”  
“Oh…why?” Kyrana blew air out of her nostrils.  
“They consider him clumsy and a liability. They think ‘ee would awaken a Manka Cat.”  
“Why would they consider him a liability, but bring me along?” Abel joked.  
“Why indeed?” Abel broke step a little. So that’s why she’s being so cold…or, colder than usual. He also wondered what that “manka cat” business was, but he wasn’t about to ask Kyrana anything. He let Kyrana pass him and fell in step with Kay.  
“So Kyrana mentioned something about a ‘manka cat.’ Should we be worried about those?”  
“Generally, no. They’re usually crepuscular beings.”  
“What. Speak Engli…I mean, Basic.” Kay smirked. He was a political wonk and had a way with words.  
“It means they come out at dusk and dawn. Though, with the light of a full moon tonight, I wouldn’t be too surprised to see some active.”  
“Great. Are they vicious?”  
“They can be. They have great tusks, sharp claws, a strong grip, and are generally as tall as me when standing on its four legs.”  
So, a ferocious cat the size of a bear. Wonderful.  
“But they don’t go out of their way to fight. They’re not even especially territorial; their ‘territories’ are very small, usually caves. But if you venture into their caves, especially if they have their young inside…that won’t be good.”  
“So, just don’t go into any caves. Got it.”  
Abel almost ran right into Kyrana, for And had stopped and Tiloa was berating him.  
“…if you didn’t understand the map, you should have asked him!”  
“I did understand it, I just don’t understand why he has to make it so damn confusing with all these heat and elevation markings.”  
“So,” Abel said, “we’re lost?”  
“No, no,” And clipped. “We know where we are…generally,” he whispered under his breath. “We’re just not sure exactly, per se. Though we really should be close.” As And zoomed in and out on his pad, the last vestiges of clouds swept by, and Ashla, the moon, was revealed in all her glory. It was so peaceful.  
“There,” someone shouted. Abel immediately saw to what they were referring as a faint light was emitting from the nearest hill. “Could that be the crystals?”  
They were off and running. After about ten minutes, they reached their destination. It was eerie, almost holy; it reminded Abel of a religious grotto of some kind. The crystals, about the size of baseballs, flickered like blue candles. They appeared hot, for the blue flickering would occasionally emit yellow sparks inside.  
They crept inside. Most of the crystals were buried underneath the natural quartz that dotted so much of the land on Tython. Kay reached out to break one out.  
“Careful,” And warned. “These crystals are highly breakable. I don’t know if it would be wise to break them out.”  
“Besides, Tiloa said, “I don’t know if we should disturb this place.”   
They all agreed and searched the many lights. Finally, Tiloa found one mostly uncovered and set about trying to withdraw it carefully. Others soon found more, while Kyrana and Abel continued on to find their own. Soon enough, they had lost the light of the moon.  
“Perhaps we should go back?” Abel suggested, but Kyrana looked pensively above at the ceiling.   
“We are not far from the surface. Only an arm’s length separates us from the moon. I will make a small hole and we can use this to refract the light into the room.” She pulled out a necklace that she always wore. It had a tear-drop gem at the end of a brilliant pale blue. Abel was going to ask where she got it, but realized she was trying to use the Force to poke the hole.  
“Are you sure we should be doing this?”  
“Eet is an easy thing. You ‘ave no faith.”  
“Well,” he said, embarrassed, “it’s not that, I just don’t know if we should be opening a hole here.” But she was already concentrating. Her eyes were closed and her hands were positioned as if she was holding something above her forehead. She seemed to be feeling her way around. Then suddenly, he fingers clenched and she pulled…as a perfect cylinder of rock and dirt crashed down. Abel coughed as some of the dirt rebounded upwards.  
“See,” Kyrana said. “Eet is no problem.”  
“Great, I never doubted you.” She sniffed.  
Kyrana then pulled out her gem and placed it into the light of the moon. The light swept the room, just as Kyrana said it would. Hundreds of flickering flames lit up; Abel supposed there were even more further on inside the cave. He even saw several on some stalagmites that looked like easy pickings. Then they both saw it.  
Sleeping on the floor not twenty feet in front of them were six sleeping manka cats. Or he assumed that’s what they were. And one of them had opened its eye in the light of the moon.  
He wasn’t sure exactly what did it. Perhaps it was Kyrana’s quick and violent intake of breath accompanied by an unsolicited force use, or else her initial hole in the cave had made it unsteady. But nevertheless, the ceiling of the cave cracked and several chunks of rock tumbled down, jarring the cats awake. Abel turned to run, but had hardly taken two steps when he realized he could hear the sound of Kyrana’s breathing. He looked down and saw her lying there, dazed from a fallen rock. He tried to drag her, but she was pinned down. He tried to quickly calm himself then tried to lift the rock. It didn’t budge. His breath was coming out fast now. Settle. Clear the mind. Nothingness. Whoo. The Force. The rock. Up, lift, off. The rock did not move.  
“Kyrana,” he pleaded, kneeling down and tapping her cheek. “Wake up, wake up…” Her eyes fluttered a little, opening and closing.  
“Abel. Get the rock off of me.”  
“I…I can’t. I need you to wake up.”  
It didn’t take a Jedi to sense that the cats were awake and aware that they were not alone in their cave. Abel looked up and could faintly see the biggest one growling and glaring. Abel stood up, looking right at her. He force-pushed with all his might. Nothing more than a faint wind.  
“Help!” he started calling. “Guys, help!” And he kept on pushing, but nothing again. Kyrana was more awake now, but didn’t have the strength to force-lift the rock off of her. The cats were growling, roaring. Two smaller ones started to stalk closer to Abel and flashed their teeth. C’mon, he thought, if I’m going to die at least let it be quick. Abel pulled in one breath. Wait, die? No, that…what? Breath, breath, breath, breath, breath breath breath breath… The middle one scratching her claws against the dirt, the left one stalking closer, the middle one bounding toward him –   
“Hey!” The creature was blasted back as the other three rounded the corner. Tiloa had sprung into action, force-blasting each animal. Kay was helping her, launching rock after rock. And had gone to attend to Kyrana and was lifting the rock off. He scooped her up in his arms and after a quick “got her, let’s go,” they were running out of the cave.  
They emerged into the moon light, and kept on running for a couple of minutes until they were well out of earshot of the cave. They stopped to rest as And laid Kyrana down tenderly.  
“Are you alright? Can you stand?” He looked at her with concern.  
“I’m fine,” she grumbled. She stood up slowly, and though it was clear that she was unsteady, it was equally clear that she was ready to challenge anyone who thought her unfit to walk.   
“What happened?” Tiloa asked, panting. At first, no one said anything. Then Abel continued grudgingly.  
“We needed more light, so Kyrana forced open a hole to let in the moonlight. We saw lots of crystals, but also those cats. The light woke one of them up, then the rocks fell somehow and one hit Kyrana and pinned her down. I tried to lift the rock or force the animals away but I…”  
“He froze,” Kyrana supplied. “’Ee could not use the Force. If it were not for you three, we would have died. Abel should not have come.” And she turned down the path and started walking.  
Silence fell as they fell in line. The others offered him looks of sympathy and Tiloa patted him on the arm. But they couldn’t erase what Kyrana had said, because it was true. His ineptitude would have costed her her life. His ignorance was dangerous. He despised himself.  
They trudged back in silence, the moon now an oppressive glare. He went to his room without a word. He didn’t sleep much.


	5. Tea and Tremors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> Pronunciation Guide:  
> .  
> New Concept/Word  
> Etka tea  
> The relationship between midi-chlorians and the Force  
> The Paths

Chapter 5: Tea and Tremors   
He had always thought of the Force like you would a toy. Growing up, the idea of the Force was like a lightsaber or a wand: it was something cool you could play with in your imagination, destroying faceless bad guys, playing the hero, being the extraordinary. Or sometimes it seemed like an ideal, a binding thing that righted the world. But as Abel lay on his bed sending objects whizzing and scooting around his room he only felt anger for it. It eluded me for so long and when I finally found it, it deserted me, and here it is, back again, taunting me.  
The sun was already streaming through the blinds, catching the dust particles disrupted by Abel’s Forceful movements. It was the morning after the incident, and the campus was quiet. Classes were suspended for a week for a galaxy-wide holiday, and many had gone to visit their families or somewhere else. Abel would not be going; he would stay and work.  
He slowly propped himself up on an elbow and stared at the room. He twitched his mouth. After a moment, he pulled himself upright and into his chair, and started up his desk-computer. He set off reading an article on insurgent activity on Hutt controlled worlds. Twenty minutes later and he was out the door.  
.  
“Master, are you busy?”  
Master Yolin opened her eyes and focused on Abel. He was peering around her door with a sheepish look. She then smiled warmly and said, “Yes, come in. I was hoping you would come.”  
When Abel had rushed out of his room, he intended to see Master Prada, his Mediation instructor. Master Prada was the only master he felt at all comfortable with: Kloop, too formal, Djelsic, too cerebral, Yolin, too cryptic, Tul-Tik, too detached, and Pitt, way too intense. But he discovered upon reaching his office that he too had left for the holiday. He was about to trudge back to his room when he passed by Master Yolin’s office and felt her presence pulsing. He decided to continue on (she was meditating after all and probably wouldn’t want to be disturbed), but something made him stop and teeter between leaving or going through the door. Breathing a sigh, he went through.  
“Here, sit down,” Master Yolin said, getting up. Abel moved to sit on the floor, while she bustled around her desk.  
“Oh,” she said, looking down at him. “You are, of course, welcome to sit on the floor. But I was thinking perhaps a chair,” she said, gesturing to two comfy arm chairs. She had two cups of a steaming beverage in both hands. Feeling silly, Abel moved to a chair.  
“Of course,” Abel said, taking the drink. Master Yolin smiled serenely, though with a hint of a playful smile, and drank a sip. Abel also drank and thought it tasted rather bitter, but the aftertaste was more pleasant and reminded Abel of wood.  
“It is called Etka tea, from Iktotch. It is made from the leaves of our great Etkon trees. It is a heavy tea and little liked by most in the galaxy.” Abel could see why, but he sipped again, for her sake. “I encourage my fellow Jedi students to drink it, as most Iktotchi have noted its focusing and restoring qualities, but it…has yet to catch on.” Her mouth curved at its edge.  
They fell into silence and after a few beats it appeared that Master Yolin was content to drink her tea. Her manner was still, as always, but her black eyes were focused far away, boring into something unseen. Abel tried to think of something to say, some reason that he had come, but he felt that upsetting the silence was somehow a breach of ritual.  
“I know why you came to see me,” the master said. But before Abel could respond, “I feel your worry, your frustration, your fear…” She turned her beady eyes toward his. “You think yourself an anomaly, an outsider, or even, perhaps, a late-blooming hero.” Abel blinked, then started to protest. “But many of our students feel this way for one reason or another. And we have many new students come to us at a later age.” She leaned back and sighed. “The legacy of Luke Skywalker looms over the future of the Jedi. The lightsaber has lost its light.” Her eyes focused again on something in the distance. “A forest in snow, a forgotten cave…the light in the dark…echoes and overtones…”   
Quiet reigned in the room.  
Abel looked on in awe. Master Yolin closed her eyes, breathed in, and shuttered a little.  
“Was…was that a vision? Of the future?”  
“I see many things…as an Iktotchi, as a Jedi. Being open to the will of the Force allows us to traverse all dimensions of thing and thought.”  
“Was that vision about me?” She thought.  
“The presence would indicate yes, probably.” Abel restrained his eyes from rolling.  
“But…how does it help?” She turned her eyes to him again.  
“Visions may or may not be intended to help. Or to hurt. They are unity. The Force is within all things and being close to the Force is to be close to all things. To be one with the Force is to be one with all things, knowing and feeling, being everything.” She grew quiet once more, apparently under the impression she had answered his question.  
“So are we supposed to do nothing with visions?” She smiled and seemed to come back to the here and now.  
“Do? What you do is up to you. Understanding what you see, that is often a hard thing. But even when we understand, the road is none the easier. We know many things about the future without visions, yet we make mistakes or do nothing when we know we should. I will tell you a vision. I see you as a Jedi. I see you confident, peaceful and wise. Now what will you do with that?” Abel laughed and nodded. She took his hand in hers. It was much larger than his, and rather rough. “Yes, that is a vision I created myself, but it is no less true. The visions we create ourselves are often the most powerful, the most true. But what will you do? That is the thing.”  
After saying goodbye, Abel took leave and returned to his room. He tried to meditate on the wisdom he had received, but found himself distracted by the dust in his nose and the call of the yuliers outside his window.  
.  
The rest of the initiates started trickling back over the next few days. The first class back was empirics and Abel was telling And (who had only arrived a couple hours before the start of class) about his conversation with Master Yolin.  
“Yeah, I don’t really know what to make of it,” said And, stroking one of his tentacles. “But, we all know about Iktotchi and seeing the future, so it’s not so odd, is it?”  
“Well, yeah,” said Tiloa in an undertone, leaning into their conversation from her desk. “After all, with Lena Morava having visions every month or so…” She and And broke off into stifled giggles, while Master Djelsic eyed them from his desk. They were supposed to be working silently on mapping DNA. Abel’s friends expertly turned their giggles into murmurs of a serious nature, pretending to discuss the assignment. Once the master returned to his work, they returned to their conversation.  
“What about Lena?” Abel asked.  
“Oh, she’s always claiming to have had visions,” And said with a wave. “Several masters have come to observe her, but we don’t really know if they’re real or not.”  
“She says they’ve been confirmed,” Tiloa sneered. And grunted.  
“Does she say what they are?” Tiloa dropped her pen to her desk and faced him.  
“Of course; every morning during breakfast if she’s had one. We try not to sit too close, but still, we hear these things: ‘There was a sun, but it was cold…A girl in white ascending…The full moon rising…’ nonsense like that.” Abel thought a bit.  
“But why is it nonsense?”  
“Ugh, because it’s Lena. She’ll do anything for attention. One time, she told me she had a vision that I would hurt myself that day and told me to be careful.” Tiloa shook her head.  
“O…K? And did you?”  
“Of course not,” she snapped. “It’s just the high and mighty way she said it, like ‘yes, it’s very serious’ like a medic or something and ‘oh, I’m so sorry this IS going to happen to you, I wish I could do more’ like she cares, or that I should be thanking her. Murgh! B****,” she whispered.  
“Sometimes,” whispered And, “she only reveals she had a vision after the fact.” Abel said “Of course” at the same time Tiloa interjected “Exactly!”  
“Then there was the time she got in trouble with that vision about Lev.” But before Abel could ask more, Master Djelsic had stood up.  
“I believe you should all be finished with your maps.” Abel looked down at his half- finished map and started scribbling. He vaguely heard the Jedi call for a volunteer to explain their map and by the time he looked up, Lena was almost done with her explanation.  
“So we can see differences between Force-user and normal DNA here and here, regardless of species. Even with the drastic difference between Ithorian and Human structure, there still exist traces of midi-chlorian concentration.” Lena sat down as her work zapped off the central screen and back onto her own desk.  
“Yes,” Master Djelsic said. “And excellent summation of the primary points. Initiate Morava expertly mapped and described the building blocks of the two species, with an unasked-for but cogent discussion on the effects on Force-users. Of course, most Jedi masters will tell you that midi-chlorian activity is only part of the explanation of Force abilities found within lifeforms, but…” Abel looked up at this. He had been a little sad to hear that midi-chlorians were indeed part of the universe, so to now hear that there was more to the answer intrigued him. But while the master began to move onto another topic, Abel realized he wasn’t the only one who had started at the mention of this fact.  
“Please, Master Djelsic,” Lena said, with her hand raised. “What do you mean when you say that midi-chlorians are only part of the explanation?” Master Djelsic seemed to take a mental step back as he gathered his response.  
“We have analyzed midi-chlorians at length in this class, but in your other classes you have rarely touched on the subject, I presume?” Most nodded their heads. “The facets of the Force are manifold. It is often more useful to treat the Force as singular entity, a God-force for instance. But not only can this be more useful, but it also seems to be – at least possibly – true. When viewing the Force as a strictly biological or chemical phenomenon – midi-chlorians – the math does not always work. Thus there exists, and has existed, debate within the Jedi community. Some, like myself, believe that we do not have all the data on the Force and that eventually, the math will result in a full understanding of the Force. But others believe that the Force is our understanding of a spiritual existence, something removed or further than science will be able to penetrate. And when it comes to Jedi, they believe that midi-chlorians are lifeforms attracted to the Force, but not the source of the Force ability itself. So far, the explanation that midi-chlorians are indeed the source of the Force within Force-users appears to be the most likely, but as I said, the math does not completely work.” As the rest of the class pondered these words, Lena was already talking.  
“Master, we often discuss the light and dark sides of the Force. How do these fit into the science of the Force?” Djelsic took a long rattling breath through his Givin skull-like face.  
“These are questions of the highest nature. Essentially, you ask me to explain the place that morality has within science and the Force. We have always observed that the universe seeks balance, and as one thing is destroyed, new life takes its place, and so on. We, as Jedi, interpret the never-ending cycle as a dual system of light and dark, a continuous battle. Scientifically, I cannot find a model of this. This model –”  
“But Master,” Lena interrupted. “Surely our own existence as Force-users must point to something? As I already demonstrated in my map, midi-chlorian activity on DNA does not seem to be passed down further generations through any known dominant or recessive scheme. Life forms are instead granted these special abilities. Why should they then be granted? Wouldn’t a system in which we Force-users were, so to speak, soldiers representing the two sides of the endless cycle, destruction and creation? Wouldn’t –”  
“You mistake culturally created understandings for science,” Master Djelsic exclaimed, exasperated. “We can find no evidence of a cosmic war, as you seem to illustrate –”  
“So everything we know about the Jedi is a lie?” Lena trilled. The rest of the class was silent as the ‘discussion’ seemed to spiral out of control. Sensing this, Master Djelsic raised and brought his hand down in a soothing motion.  
“No,” Master Djelsic said, matter-of-factly. “The Jedi is an order of Force-users committed to using their gifts to create balance in the universe. For thousands of years, the Jedi have interpreted this struggle as the struggle of the light and dark sides of the Force, stemming all the way back to the moons Ashla and Bogan, the same ones we see here on Tython.” He paused. “This understanding is not wrong. There is no place for right and wrong in a discussion of science. These conceptions are ways of understanding where we fit and how we operate, but as an empiricist, I do not find concrete evidence for a great ‘light’ or ‘dark.’”  
“But that is what we always say,” said Lena, almost pleading. “That Jedi follow the light in the great –”  
“Yes we do,” Master Djelsic clipped. “I suggest a further discussion with Master Yul or one of the other Green Jedi. In an empirics class, we focus on the observable universe. We find no concrete evidence of a God-Force or two Light and Dark sides. We find a hole in the math; that is it. Thank you, Lena, for this valuable discussion.”  
As they filed out of class, most with heads down, processing, Abel glanced at Lena’s face which was streaked with tears. She pushed through the rest of the class and set out down the hallway at a brisk walk.  
.  
Abel weaved in and out of the younger initiates with his food as he made his way to his friends. When he reached them, he found that the obvious topic of conversation was their empirics class.  
“– and did you see her crying? I wonder why,” Zek finished, as Abel sat down next to Tiloa.  
“I think she just didn’t like being wrong. With Master Djelsic interrupting her, disagreeing with her…” She suggested.  
“I don’t know, she seemed abnormally upset,” Zek said apologetically, stirring his food.  
“You just didn’t like seeing your beloved cry,” And teased. Zek glared.  
“Can’t you –”  
“OK, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”  
“Maybe,” Abel said, interrupting, “she just didn’t like finding out her idea was wrong.”  
“That’s what I just said,” Tiloa complained, rolling her eyes.  
“No, I mean, maybe she was really connected to the idea of the Light and Dark sides. Was she, like, offended that they were myths, as Master Djelsic seemed to suggest?”  
“Totally squashed, more like,” And said.  
“I don’t know what the big deal would be though,” Tiloa sniffed. “Most of the other teachers probably believe in them anyways; he even said so.”  
“But she was always more attracted to empirics as a discipline,” Zek said. “Besides, I don’t know why it would bother her. It makes much more sense if you take the sides out of the equation.”  
“Didn’t you hear Djelsic dumb-dumb?” And rapped his knuckles on Zek’s pointy head. “You have to put it in the equation or else the math doesn’t work.”  
“No, there exists an unexplained space, that doesn’t mean that there must be –”  
“She was always such a zealot when it came to Jedi stuff,” said Tiloa, who had been ignoring the other two as she thought it through. “Wasn’t she, like, supposedly the daughter of two Jedi or something?”  
“That’s what she says,” And said, stuffing food in his mouth. “Bu’ ah don’ kno’.” And swallowed.   
“She lives with her aunt and uncle,” Zek said. “Her uncle was her mother’s brother and they both grew up under the Jedi religion, though only Lena’s mother was a Force-user. She apparently went to the dark side and that somehow killed her, but Lena’s uncle refuses to tell the whole story. She’s tried to look up her mother in the databases, but she can’t find anyone with the surname Vry or Morava. Vry being her mom and uncle’s name,” Zek explained, at the look on their faces.  
As they sank into silent contemplation, Abel voiced another question. “What’s a green Jedi?” They looked blankly at him. “Well, Master Djelsic had suggested Lena talk to a green Jedi, but I have no idea what…”  
“No one’s told you about the Paths?” Zek asked.  
“Uh…apparently not.”  
“Well, it’s not important yet, seeing as we’re still initiates,” And explained. “But basically they happened as a result of the new Jedi Order trying to be different from the old one. After Luke Skywalker died the Jedi Order was still on shaky ground: they weren’t sure if Skywalker’s direction was the right one, dark Jedi continued appearing, and many Force-users were wary about joining such a rigorous order. So they created these “Paths,” pre-designed directions for Jedi to go in. After they had been around a couple of years, they assigned colors to them to make them easier to describe. So there’s the Blue Path which is basically a path of scholarship or learning, then there are the Red Jedi who function as ambassadors or law enforcers – these are the Jedi that go on fun missions,” And said with a wink. “Then there is the Yellow Path: that’s probably the most nebulous of the Paths, but they go out into the world as helpers: as healers, outreach, even politics. Finally, there is the Green Path, which is the Path of enlightenment. And religion, you know, your typical Jedi wizard-priest,” And summed up happily.  
“So once we’re done here,” Tiloa explained, “we’ll pick a path and be apprenticed to someone who can help us with that.”  
“Have you thought about your Path?” Abel asked. Tiloa and And looked at each other and smirked.  
“Red, obviously.” Abel nodded. He could see them in typical Star Wars fashion, infiltrating a crime syndicate or negotiating with unaligned planets. Abel turned to Zek.  
“Hmm, Blue, probably.”  
“What do you mean, probably,” And asked. “He means definitely. He’s already talked with Master Djelsic about a good chemistry tea–”  
“Well, you know,” Zek interrupted. “Odo will probably get the best apprenticeship. You know he was done with his assignment today at least fifteen minutes before Lena.”   
As And waved away his comparison, Abel asked, “Then why didn’t he explain his map.”  
“Oh you know why,” Tiloa said. “Abo’s…shy. But Lena is…well, Lena. She loves a chance to show off.”  
“But Abo’s actually smarter than she is?” Abel asked, disbelieving.  
“In empirics, of course,” And allowed. “He’s a genius at that stuff.”  
“Even smarter than you?” Abel teased. And fidgeted.  
“Well! I mean…with scores and reality, you know, they don’t always…” They laughed as And made up excuses. As they continued talking, Abel thought about his own path. He had barely begun to grasp that he was, in fact, a Jedi. He hadn’t really thought about his future after school. What would he do with these gifts? Would he even be able to use them to make a better universe? He sighed and put it out of his mind. As they said, he needn’t worry about it now.


	6. The Field Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> WARNING: This chapter could cause some readers some discomfort in that it portrays (spoiler) our heroes searching for an agent in an unsavory atmosphere.  
> .  
> Pronunciation Guide:  
> Lrede E’da = IPA [ɬɛdɛ] [ɛɂda], approximately “shlede e’da” (apostrophe indicates glottal stop)  
> “mayrd lubreek” = as it sounds  
> .  
> New Concept/Word  
> Drev’starn is really the capital, but most of the description is my own  
> “mayrd lubreek” is a made up Twi’lek phrase

Chapter 6: The Field Trip  
On this particular day, Abel was reminded of elementary school and the excitement that surrounded the smoky yellow buses, chaperones and hectic atmosphere at a science center, because they were going on a field trip. Technically it was termed “Experiential Learning,” but “Field Trip” sounded much more fun.  
As they shot out of hyperspace, Abel got his first look at another inhabited planet other than Earth and Tython: Bothawui.  
Hmm…it looks a lot like the other two, Abel thought, with its green land masses, blue oceans and polar caps.  
They swiftly landed and the Jedi initiates disembarked in the metropolis of Drev’starn, the capital. Drev’starn shone white, presumably a favored building material, while many of the city’s taller buildings were trimmed in gold and blue. The capital resembled some of the larger cities on Earth, though its buildings favored more spherical shapes rather than boxes. Abel thought it looked distinctly sci-fi.  
Master Kloop led them to the train which glided gracefully to a stop. As they were boarding, Abel and several others turned their heads as a commotion erupted further down the platform. They watched as a young Bothan male frantically dashed out of the train with three other Bothans in hot pursuit. The one Bothan got off a few shots with his blaster, causing several bystanders to duck for cover. He had almost disappeared down the stairs when suddenly a food vendor stepped out from behind his cart and tripped the fugitive. The Bothan authorities had just caught up to their prey when the doors of the train closed and they started moving.  
“Damn spies,” Kay whispered next to Abel’s ear. Abel turned abruptly. Kay was wearing an expression of extreme disgust.  
“What do you mean?” Abel knew that Kay had strong political opinions.  
“The Bothan Council and all their secrecy,” Kay answered, “they are renowned throughout the galaxy for their spy network and it generally works great for the Union, but here on Bothawui…it’s like living in a centrifuge. The people never know what to expect, never know who’s good or who’s bad, if there is such a thing. And if they make the wrong choice, the government gets ‘em,” Kay finished dramatically.  
Abel looked back at the dead serious face and snorted a little. “Gets ‘em?”  
He nodded. “They’re scared. So many of them will take any chance they can to show their loyalty. They turn on each other. But most books don’t mention it. They don’t like to talk about it, not in class anyways…”  
“Even in class?”   
Kay looked around. Voice controlled, he asked, “Have you heard of Lrede E’da?”  
“This is our stop!” Master Kloop called to the rest and they slid past the sliding doors. They ascended into the sunlight and began walking along the nicely groomed street in the city center. Abel was rather surprised to see And and Tiloa, who were usually so quick to scorn everything, were also looking around with interest.  
“You can especially see it in those buildings there…” Abel tuned in to Zek’s running commentary. “See how far they’re spaced? They must belong to extremely wealthy Bothans, for, as the Bothans say, ‘Space makes safe.’”  
They turned down a side street and Master Kloop held open a door that looked like it would lead them into a shady bar. This couldn’t be it.  
“Well…in you go.” Lena – who was in the lead – balked. But at the master’s gesture, she forged ahead. They followed the grimy stairwell down several flights and emerged onto a dimly lit platform. Almost immediately, another train appeared, this one even sleeker than the public one they had left, and colored jet black. A serious Bothan dressed in a sharp gray uniform stepped out and watched as they filed in. Master Kloop turned to speak.  
“Most major cities on Bothawui have vast systems of tunnels connecting buildings, but none are as complex as that in Drev’starn. No one knows exactly how deep they go or how many there are, but it is estimated at several miles underground and a combined length of nearly five hundred miles worth of tunnel. As it is, the Council determined it necessary that we should arrive in such an inconspicuous manner.” Abel thought he detected a hint of reproach in her statement. “I do hope you followed my instructions and left all gadgets behind. We will be thoroughly searched on our arrival.” She eyed And suspiciously. He held out his hands.  
“Don’t worry, Master, I followed your instructions to the S.” She nodded, then realizing what he said, shook her head and faced forward. And winked.  
They soon reached their destination and ran the gamut of security. Kyrana looked especially miffed as the Bothan security guards ran their sensors over her.  
“Mayrd lubreek,” she spat under her breath as her lekku vibrated. Abel raised an eyebrow, but Kyrana just glared at him. He took the hint.  
They continued following Master Kloop who herself was now being escorted by another Bothan. Abel couldn’t help seeing their little group as a line a ducks and he chuckled. He earned hard stares from some of the nearby Bothan guards. They were finally ushered into a small door and they took their seats on the viewing deck of the Bothan Council chamber.  
The Bothan Council was composed of 18 members, each representing a different nation-state on Bothawui. The Jedi initiates were here to watch the Council in its operation as it dealt with law creation, dispute mediation, and communication between Bothawui’s many economic and political ministries. As was to be expected, most Council sessions were highly secretive, and it was only through the pulling of many strings that they were able to witness it in action.  
The ten initiates fidgeted through the proceedings as officials, managers and “attendants” spoke to the Council. Kay kept up a running commentary: “Oh, that’s Minister Drs’ka from the Ministry of Public Finance, he’s probably here to secure another loan for the Boran Corporation…” The hours whittled away thusly and Abel found himself starting to daydream. He looked to his right and saw that Puli had actually fallen asleep. Or maybe she was meditating.  
Abel was interrupted from his thoughts as another “attendant” scuttled into the room and barked the attention of the court.  
“Sirs, I have received an urgent report from the stellar agent. He reports that one of Nal Hutta’s insurgents is staying here –” But before he could get any further, one of the councilmen interrupted him. The other members were noticeably agitated.  
“I would like to remind the attendant that we have guests in the balcony today.” He gestured kindly to the initiates with a slow wave of his hand. And waved back. “Perhaps he can elaborate on the background of his case.”   
Caught off guard, the attendant spluttered, “Of course, your eminence.” He launched into a quick run-down, how Nal Hutta reps had reported insurgents lurking in the nearby Manda sector. He finished his report saying that they had a possible insurgent staying near the spaceport. He was quickly dismissed and went away shaking, looking gaunt and defeated. It struck Abel as odd. He leaned towards And.  
“That was weird. It seemed more important than it ended up being, don’t you think?”  
And gave him a pointed look. We’ll discuss this later, it said.  
.  
The Council broke for lunch and the initiates were ushered out and into a smaller conference room to talk with Councilman Hurd’nan, a councilman from one of the smaller nation-states. After a brief overview of his work, he allowed for questions. Kay immediately spoke.  
“Councilman, forgive me, but there are those in the galaxy that harbor prejudice towards Bothans because of their prowess in espionage. How does this affect your operations?”  
The councilman looked a little taken aback, but he growled in assent. “Aye, you have that right. There are those in the galaxy that mistrust us as a species. I myself have felt firsthand the effects of discrimination. Bothans are forever mistreated and misused. It is of upmost importance for the Council then to uphold the Bothan peoples. We must be strong to combat those who seek our ruin –”  
“So I imagine the loyalty of the attendants becomes vitally important.”  
“Yes,” the councilman agreed heartily, “I will admit that Bothans can be mischievous at times, but the loyalty of the government attendants is absolute. The Council cannot function without binding –”  
“And if you found that one of them lied…” Kay drew out.  
“Death. Swift death, and they know it. Even other Bothan entities, our corporations, our ministries, would not seek to corrupt a Council attendant. In the case of war –”  
“But surely there would be no need for a full scale war. With Bothawui such an important part of the Union, they would have full support –”  
“Ah yes, but for the smaller wars, you know. The “shadow wars” as they are called, intelligence is key. Bothawui is proud to be one of the galaxy’s first lines of defense. We protect thousands of systems.”  
“Like your sector neighbors, for example.”  
“Naturally. It is only smart military posture to maintain strong relations with those bordering –”  
“So if violence erupted in, say, the Manda sector, if there was a revolution there, the Council would want to know quickly.” The councilman smirked at such a simple observation.  
“Certainly. But it would never go so far as to become realized. Our neighboring sectors have no threat of violence. We would ensure that long before.”   
The rapid-fire conversation between Kay and Hurd’nan had continued good-naturedly, with Kay seeming to ask only responsive questions. But here Kay paused.  
“There’s no threat of violence then? That’s good,” Kay proclaimed with a laugh.  
“None,” Hurd’nan said seriously. “There would never be.”  
Master Kloop had caught on. “That’s enough, Initiate Kay. If someone else –”  
“No insurgency then in, say, the Manda sector.”  
The only sound was the gentle purring of the air conditioner. Each of the initiates had realized what Kay was getting at. His eyes were fixed on the councilman though who had gone deathly silent.  
“I misspoke, the recent insurgency there is a new development and classified. I had forgotten that you were privy to that information. It will be dealt with soon.” He finished, still staring hard at Kay.  
Master Kloop cut through. “Enough from you, Kay. Lena, have you any questions?”  
And it went on from there.  
.  
The Jedi initiates arrived at their hotel for the night. Quickly enough, Abel congregated with And, Tiloa, Zek, and Kay to discuss the morning’s events.  
“Are you actually that good?” Abel asked Kay.  
“Whatdaya mean?” Kay asked slyly.  
“Yes,” Tiloa answered, “he was trying to get certain answers, and yes, he is that good. When it comes to talking people ‘round.”  
“I knew there was something off about that attendant,” Abel proclaimed.  
“I think everyone did,” And admitted. “It was pretty sloppy.”  
“I assume attendant just means spy?” Abel asked. They nodded. “But what was that though about Nal Hutta insurgents?” And shrugged and looked to Kay.  
“It hasn’t made it to most news outlets,” Kay began, “but if you read between the lines, it seems that the Hutts have been putting more and more bounties out on local “thieves,” but they aren’t reporting stolen goods. Then there are the Letters.”  
“The letters?”  
“They’re published letters from a user called The Godsheart. Political stuff prophesying the end of the Hutt regime, calling on the Union for support, that kind of thing… But the thing is, the Hutts are after them; like, excessively after them, and they still haven’t been caught. It indicates sophistication.”  
“If you already suspected this, why were you trying to goad the councilman?”  
“I didn’t know it. A lot of other political wonks like me suspected something was going on. But I more or less confirmed it. If the Bothans are pursuing it at such a high level of government, it’s real.”  
“Yeah, I guess…” And said, running a hand through his tentacles. “But you would think this would be big news, that the Union –”  
Kay scoffed. “No, the Union, the Bothans, they’re all quietly helping the Hutts. They’ve helped maintain the slimy empire for tens of thousands of years. They don’t want it getting out there that an insurgency is happening. People might start to root for it.”  
“That explains the Letters, then,” Abel said. They looked at him. “Balancing trying to get popular support with trying to hide who and where you are. I suppose that’s pretty hard.”  
“And they probably don’t want the Jedi knowing about it,” Tiloa offered. “We’re too principled.” They nodded. “Yeah.”  
Kay frowned. Then shook his head. “I was really hoping to get him to let slip where this insurgent was staying, but I realized that would just be too hard to fool him on.”  
“Well, let’s see,” Tiloa said, sitting up, all business. She was a notorious snoop. “We know that he’s here on Bothawui. I would think here in Drev’starn.”  
“I got that impression, too,” Zek said. “He specifically said ‘here.’”  
“What exactly did he say?” Tiloa turned violently to Zek, excited. “He has a brilliant memory,” she said in an aside to Abel. Zek thought for a moment.  
“Something like, ‘I have received a report from the space agent. He reports that one of Nal Hutta’s insurgents is staying here…’ then he cuts off.”  
“Space agent?” And said, “Th’hell that’s supposed to be?”  
“An agent stationed in orbit?” Abel proffered.  
“Actually, I think the word he used was ‘stellar’ agent,” Zek amended.  
Tiloa stared blankly. “So…he was really good?” But it gave Abel an idea.  
“Someone pass me the thing…” Maybe stellar wasn’t an adjective, maybe it was a noun…  
“What thing?”  
“The…the thing!” Abel was pointing. “The pad!” Kay scoffed, but tossed him a computer pad.  
“I was thinking,” Abel began, “that maybe” – he started typing – “it isn’t stellar but Stellar.” He clicked. “Could there be a place, a restaurant or something, named that?”  
Click click. Yep.  
“Right here! Three miles away. The Stellar Lounge and Casino.”  
“Let me see!” Tiloa called, unbelieving. Abel tossed the pad to her like a Frisbee.  
“My work here is done.” Abel sat back satisfied.  
Tiloa scanned the information while the rest of the guys silently thought. Zek finally said the obvious. “Are we supposed to do something with this information? What, are you going to post this for your poliwonks?” he asked Kay.  
“Nope,” Kay answered, “we’re going ourselves, of course.” The three of them erupted into their own exclamations, with Zek’s scoff, Abel’s “no way,” and And’s “excellent.”  
“C’mon, you two. The Union’s not telling us, and the Jedi should know.”  
“Let’s tell Master Kloop then,” Abel said. Kay rolled his eyes. “Really, why would we play investigator?”  
“This is the kind of thing we’ll be doing in a few years,” Kay argued. “Think of it as practice.” Abel remained unconvinced. “Isn’t knowledge power?”  
“I didn’t think Jedi sought power,” Abel countered.  
“Agh!” Kay said with a wave, “you know what I mean. This is the right thing to do. I know it.” Abel looked at Kay who was staring almost pleadingly back. “You can do something positive, something real.” Abel looked down. Perhaps.  
He inclined his neck a little. Kay pounced. “That’s enough of a yes for me! And Zek’s in, even if he says he not.”  
“I’m not.”  
“Excellent, we’re all in.”  
“Well,” Tiloa finally unloaded what she had been sitting on, “there is one little snag.” Kay raised his eyebrows. “This place, Stellar? It serves a particular clientele.”  
“Eh,” And said, “we can always blend in.”  
“No, you don’t understand. It’s…well, it’s kind of…a hookup bar.”  
“What.”  
“To put it mildly,” Tiloa finished.  
“So…” Kay began.  
“So, I don’t think this agent, whoever he is, is going to want to talk to a bunch of boys.”  
“Well,” Kay blustered, “we don’t really know his type…”  
“We do if he’s hanging out at this Stellar place. Trust me. This isn’t even your average Twi’lek slave dance party, where it’s ‘look, but don’t touch…’”  
“Yikes,” Abel said. He knew there was sleaze all across the galaxy, but he still seemed to view it as that PG Star Wars place. “If that is so, and we are doing this, you can’t go in alone.”  
“I know,” she answered, thinking and biting her nails, “we need to go get Kyrana and Puli.”  
“No, I mean we’re going with you.”  
“Well, I know, but even still. It’s a large place.”  
“This is gonna be a long night,” Abel said in unison with Kay. They said it in somewhat different tones, though.  
.  
*Knock knock knock*  
The door opened and Kyrana came face-to-face with And who broke into a smile.  
“Hey Kyrana, wanna go on a date?”  
Her eyes narrowed.  
A half hour later, Abel, And, and Kay were walking side-by-side with Puli, Kyrana and Tiloa along the crowded street. They were dressed up to the nines with the boys in sharp shirts and the girls in short dresses, having stopped at the store in the hotel lobby. A quick airtaxi ride away and they swooped into the platform on floor 24 of the Stellar Lounge. They had decided to move about the lounge in pairs, so they exited the taxi as such, trying to distance themselves as much as possible so others wouldn’t see them as a group. Abel exited last with Puli and they made their way to the bottom level.  
Abel’s first sense of the place was the smell: it stank of smoke and sweat. This was not one of the galaxy’s refined establishments as he and Puli were jostled between crowds, Abel making sure to keep his grip on his “date.” They eventually reached the bar and ordered drinks. Puli let out a sigh and turned around, leaning against the counter, eyes narrowing.  
“Sense anything,” Abel said quietly.  
“Yes. Much.”  
“Anything useful, I mean.”  
“Oh. No.”   
Abel snorted. He didn’t really think their plan would work. They would sense, divine, the presence of their target? Fat chance in a place like this. The Bothan bartender returned with their drinks and he and Puli pretended to have a conversation as they scanned the room. The Stellar catered to a mostly foreign crowd it seemed, with humans making up the largest percentage and only a few Bothan clients.  
“We never really asked ourselves,” Abel began to Puli, “what exactly this agent would be doing here.”  
She shrugged. “Sleazy places bring shady faces.”  
“But why would he come to one of the most secure cities in the galaxy? What could he possibly be doing here that he couldn’t do somewhere else?” Puli frowned.  
“I don’t know. But should we walk around?” They took their drinks and made as if to meander to a sabacc table. Abel saw one man eyeing Puli almost aggressively, so he put his hand on her bare back. He could feel the bones of her vertebrae which glistened with the sweat of the place.  
“Sorry,” he whispered to her, “a guy was eyeing you.” She nodded but after a moment swiveled back.  
“Which man?” He frowned, but covertly pointed him out. “We aren’t really getting anywhere. I think I’ll go talk with him.”  
“With him?” Abel said incredulously.  
“I can take care of myself,” she assured him. She slunk passed him. Whispering in his ear, she said, “and you’ll be watching me.” Abel watched her as she swayed her way in the general direction of the man, seeming not to notice his laser-like stare. Abel returned to the bar and nursed a drink, covertly keeping an eye on his classmate. Several women tried to join him, but he politely refused their company. He didn’t have enough money even if he wanted them. He shivered.  
Puli played her part well, he thought. She looked like a lost girl, innocently pattering from table to table until she graciously accepted the man’s invitation to sit. She did so meekly, keeping her head down in a modest manner. She continued to look demure as they chatted, occasionally letting slip a coquettish chirp.  
Soon Abel fell into a bit of a reverie; the shouts, bells and moans faded and the world slowed. His thoughts slowed and left. He sank into his chair, running his fingers along the crystal lip of his glass, round and round and round it went. And a pinging in his ears and somewhere else, too. Yes, it was there.  
He got up. He deposited his drink and buttoned his shirt as he ascended the stairs. He could feel it, something pulling him up here as he entered the labyrinth of alcoves and private rooms. Around the corner, is it him? Is it the agent?  
Instead, he saw a familiar face. Kyrana being led by another man; her eyes were strong, though staring at the floor and she walked stiffly. But Abel noticed something and acted quickly.  
“Darling, there you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Abel called to Kyrana, adopting a slurring accent. “Come come, I’ve already secured you another booking, sorry sir, sorry sir, you’ll just have to find another…” Kyrana’s eyes bugged as he tore her arm away from the man who began protesting.  
“Hey, who ‘da hell do you think you are!”  
“Sorry again sir, but she has another appointment, I’m sure you’ll find –”  
“That’s my girl, you can’t –” But Abel whipped around, staring fiercely.  
“No, she’s my girl. I’m not gonna explain to you how things work here, bud, but I suggest you move along. I have a deal with this club here and they can make things real hard for you.” Abel’s lip arched with disgust as the man finally took the hint and walked away grumbling.  
“What are you doing?” Kyrana hissed. “He was a regular here, he was providing me with much needed information.”  
“He was leading you into a darkened room and he had a specific look in his eye,” Abel said awkwardly. She stiffened at the implication. Then she held up her head.  
“I knew that was his general plan. I can take care of him myself.”   
Abel bit back a retort. Instead he removed his hand from her arm and replied, “Of course. But I just didn’t like it. I’m sorry.” Kyrana looked at him, searching, while he continued looking forward. She seemed to decide.  
“Well. Thank you.”  
As they continued walking awkwardly together, eyes of clients were drawn to them in a way they weren’t when Abel was with Puli. One called out from across a balcony as they descended the stairs. Another, a weequay, stroked Kyrana as he walked by. And still Kyrana walked ahead, though with her eyes squinting small. Another human male came up to them. He smiled toothlessly, a winking look, and whispered huskily at Kyrana.  
“Twi’lek girl, you, ya know, good down there?”  
She stood stock still, torn between acting a part, force-throwing him against a wall, and pure shock. Abel didn’t know exactly what he was asking, but he could guess the implication.  
“Sorry, but this one’s no good. Yeah, yeah, she…ah, yeah no,” he finished stupidly. He wasn’t very good at talking like this.  
“Uh, well, that’s fine,” he slurred, proceeding to prod her lips. She pulled back, startling the man. “Ooh, I like that, I could always –”  
“Nah, trust me, she’s got…you know…it,” Abel said, betting.  
“S***, man,” he said, recoiling, “why didn’t ya tell me first! Seriously, why she even here?” He was wiping his hands on his jacket, as if that could do anything. “I hope she told you first.”  
“Yeah, that’s why I’m taking her out.”  
“Good, yeah, good,” the man said, turning to Kyrana. “These Twi’lek dirty girls don’t know when to stop. They do it on purpose, I think, to get back at us.” He nodded back to Abel. “Good luck, man.” Then he stomped away, a chorus of “s***”s and “f***”s trailing behind him.  
Abel turned to Kyrana who was breathing rapid shallow breaths, but still stared ahead. He couldn’t believe how calm she was. “I’m sorry, even Puli didn’t have –”  
“No, I’m sure she didn’t.” She turned to walk ahead, her fists clenched and lekku trailing, and Abel but followed.  
They had barely gone a few meters when they heard a great crash, and shards of glass came tumbling from a room above. Abel and Kyrana looked at each other.  
Kyrana looked up. “Where there’s trouble…”  
“…there’s probably Jedi,” Abel finished. They sprinted up the stairs.  
.  
When Abel and Kyrana arrived on the scene, they found they were the last to the party. They were standing in the doorway of one of the suites overlooking the interior gambling tables and entertainment. The grand window to their left was just a gaping hole. They immediately ducked for cover as blaster fire rang out over the heads, diving behind a plush divan. To their left, they heard someone swear.  
“Dammit,” And spat as he peered around his overturned table, “I wish we had those lightsabers.”  
“What’s going on!” Abel shouted to him.  
“Well, ah” – And twisted his hand and they heard a yell and a thud from across the room – “nice, it’s a bit of a long story, but somehow Puli thought she tracked the guy down and came up here but they’re actually a drug smuggling syndicate and tried to kidnap her and Tiloa – I don’t know, sensed it maybe, I wasn’t there – and she raised hell and now we’re all here.”  
Abel looked at all the pieces of furniture strewn across the room. It looked like a cyclone hit it. “Tiloa did this by herself?”  
“Yep.”  
Speaking of the devil, Tiloa suddenly burst through her own barricade on the far right, sending pieces of an armoire and an entire loveseat hurdling toward the shooters. Kay was hot on her heels, directing smaller bits of debris toward any adversaries not taken out by Tiloa’s barrage.  
The commotion ceased. Blasters had stopped sounding and furniture had stopped crashing. Tiloa gingerly took a few steps forward then quickly stepped back as a blaster shot just above her head. But And was quick on the uptake and flew at the last criminal, punching him right in the face. He crumpled.  
“Clear,” And stated. He stood up and closed his eyes, extending his hand over the ground. “The room seems clear,” he spoke. Tiloa rushed forward.  
Abel finally saw where she was going. Puli was slumped on the bed. Was she…?  
“Just passed out,” Tiloa answered, reading his feelings. “They hit her on the head when I came in.” She was checking Puli over just to be sure. Tiloa looked up and nodded. Then she laid her hand on Puli’s forehead and breathed in and out, in and out.  
Puli’s eyes fluttered open. Abel released the breath he had been holding. He covered his own forehead with his own hand.  
Puli eased into a small smile and tilted her head to the side. “Sorry, everyone. I thought I sensed…well, I was close, wasn’t I. He was the head of a large illegal organization.” Tiloa just shook her head, still cradling Puli’s in her hand.  
“Um guys,” And said, “we should probably think about leaving.” He turned to look at the carnage.  
“You just mean the room, not the whole place, right?” Kay pushed.  
“Kay,” Tiloa said, “we can’t stay; not only from the mess we caused but Puli’s in no condition to keep going.” Abel had been looking at Kyrana who had slumped down against a wall. She was hugging her knees with one hand and stroking her lekk with the other, staring straight ahead. She was shivering.  
“Kyrana isn’t either, I think,” he said quietly.  
“But, but…” Kay was red in the face, even more agitated than usual.  
“Kay,” Tiloa said more firmly, “we don’t have –”  
“Stay where you are! Hands up, turn slowly towards me, this is Drev’starn Security!”  
But before they could so much as blink, they heard another familiar voice.  
“Stop! Hold your fire, sirs, I am a Jedi and they are my pupils!” Master Kloop had arrived and Abel’s stomach dropped.  
Their Rodian teacher eyes, which were usually bright and jovial, were gray. She stopped to converse with the head of security. At one point she barked to them, “They were drug smugglers, correct?” They nodded, she nodded, and she went back to discussing with the officers. She raised her voice and Abel heard her say, “I promise you, you will get statements from them once I have dealt with them!” Oh no…no, no. This will not be good.  
“Right, you six, come with me.” The master waved her hand and marched away, leaving the initiates to follow in her wake. Tiloa went first, face dusty with smoke, leading a bent Puli by the hand; Kay strutted, convinced of his own right, though with his tight lips quivering slightly; Kyrana slowly rose and glided out like a ghost, and Abel and And, with a glance to each other, stepped on as if to the beat of a solemn drum, in the knowledge of their own guilt.  
.  
They marched back to their hotel in silence. They accompanied Master Kloop to her room, where she proceeded to chew them out. They told her what happened, all of it, but it made little difference. Abel just hung his head, looking at his feet and the fraying carpet. It was quite a luxurious carpet, made of long, soft hairs, colored blue. He felt hot.  
They were not to be let out of her sight again. They would be monitored. They would miss the rest of the trip to make statements with the security tomorrow. They would face the Council of Teachers when they returned. Their punishment would be meted out there.  
They dispersed to return to their rooms. As they were going, another door opened and Lena peaked out. She was trying to put on a look of haughty aloofness.  
“Why are you all up at this hour?”  
“I don’t know, why are you?” Kay snapped.  
“I can’t help it if you’re galloping down the hall like a herd of nerfs. If you –”  
“It was her, she turned us in,” Tiloa said.  
Silence hung in the air.  
Kay was the first to respond.  
“You conniving, little –”  
“I had to,” Lena said breathlessly. She had suddenly shed her aloof attitude. She was almost giddy. “You have no sense. None of you…you don’t even care about who you are. You don’t deserve to wield the Force. I knew something like this would happen.”  
“Like what? How do you even know, were you following us?” Kay asked  
“I didn’t have to,” she said pompously, “I could sense you.” Even after what she had done, Abel couldn’t help but be impressed. She could sense them all the way there?  
“Bulls***,” And stated.  
Lena turned her eye to him with a curving smile. “Some of us have skills beyond yours, Initiate Kino.” The implication of seniority, which always galled And, made his black eyes bug.  
“Look guys,” Abel said soberly, his voice cracking slightly, “we’re all tired. Let’s just go to bed.”  
“No,” Kay said firmly, “she’s the reason it all went wrong, she always is.”  
“Kay,” Abel said, almost pleading. He looked around at red-faced Kay, And staring daggers, and Tiloa smiling devilishly and a clenched fist; Kyrana and Puli looked out of it. “Kay,” Abel said in a kindlier voice, “she’s not even the reason we got caught. Look at the mess we made, we…we were always going to face that.” Abel didn’t say the thought that echoed in his mind. We deserved it. But that wasn’t his decision to judge.  
Instead, on a strange impulse, he faced Lena. “Thank you, Lena.” He bore her no ill will. All his anger was for himself; deciding to go out, being stupid, letting Puli wander off on her own…nobody watching her…  
He watched Puli as she sank into her own room. Abel didn’t even notice the others, if they still argued, if they too had turned toward their rooms. As he was closing his door, a flash of blue caught his eye. Kyrana too had left the scene. She was in the middle of her doorway, mid-close of the door, leaning her head against the in-between, the thin side of the door. Her fingers were absentminded, massaging her lips, as she stared. She sensed Abel and caught his eye. The connection broke as the door shut itself. Abel went to bed.


	7. The Fields and the Fenns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> Pronunciation Guide:  
> Nak = [næk] like “snack” without the “s”  
> opfzes = phonetically, how you’d think those consonants would go together  
> ensacta = en-SAHK-tuh, [ɛnsaktə]  
> .  
> New Concept/Word  
> opfzes/opies  
> ensacta  
> Dentry  
> Throwers  
> Journal of the Whills – these are creations of Lucas & Co., but from what I can tell, they are intended to be records of galactic events found thousands of years later by…us? In this story, they are a great Jedi journals recording their history and pre-history (quasi-myths)

Chapter 7: The Fields and the Fenns  
The ride back was as subdued as the ride there was lively. The darkness of hyperspace whizzed by and yet seemed so still; it seemed as if they hardly moved at all, no rumble as accompanies a car ride, yet they flew faster and farther each second than humans from Earth had traveled before. In his cocoon, Abel couldn’t appreciate the majesty of their speed. It is hard to see such things in such darkness.  
Abel spent most of his ride slumped in his chair, sick. He had probably picked up something on Bothawui. He alternated between the chills, shivering, and waves of heat causing rivulets of sweat to course down his forehead. Tiloa had noticed and offered to do something, but he waved her away. There was nothing she could really do; it was just one of those sicknesses. She and And sat staring forward, or else studying or some such activity on their pads. Of all the initiates only Kay and Lena seemed at ease; Lena was peacefully reclining, hands clasped with interlocking fingers, while Kay tried to engage others, currently Zek, in conversation.  
Even though Zek had not been one to leave their hotel, he was still implicated in “the crime.” He had been on-call during their escapade, and even though And had called him during their shoot-out, he had declined to notify Master Kloop. Needless to say, she did not appreciate this. He was seemingly trying to make up for this by refusing to talk to Kay as a religious rite.  
They finally made their descent into Tython in the afternoon, both in their internal clocks and on Tython. The sun was low on the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with orange and pink. Abel watched as the grass below the ship waved in the wind. A flock of birds were disturbed in the trees and took flight and several leaves fell to the ground.  
They trudged back to their dorms and Master Kloop reminded the seven of them to arrive next morning at the temple to report to their council. Abel broke off from the rest, as he decided to forgo the quick elevator ride up and take the longer climb to the dormitory by foot. And volunteered to go with him, but he shook his head.  
The weather on Tython rarely deviated from its balmy temperate temperature, even in the night. Though the sun was setting, it remained warm. The air was moist and clung to Abel’s skin as he put foot over root and rock up the mossy path. Though the sky above was ablaze, the forest was gray in dusty dusky light.  
It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, Abel thought as he tripped over a root in the half-light. At least not when you’re sick. Abel had thought some fresh air and a walk might do him good after being cooped up in the ship all day, but the Tython air just made his head even heavier. He squinted as he walked. He thought again on the night before yesterday, but he stopped thinking about it because he didn’t know if he would have done anything differently. A cool breeze interrupted his thoughts; a nighttime breeze on Tython was unusual. But he felt colder and soon a case of the chills had come upon him. He made it to the temple complex in blue darkness. As he crawled through the hallways, he passed by And’s door which stood ajar. He could hear the voice of Tiloa, then heard Kay: “Yeah, but we don’t know that. Maybe the agent had already left, I mean the Bothans…” Abel tuned out. They were discussing what had happened and Abel found that he didn’t really care about this mysterious rebellion, at least not at the moment. He trudged on.  
.  
Abel had had a fitful night of sleeping, dreams of a snowy forest, being pursued by a lightsabered man and fighting with only his bare hands, of a desert place with storms and a canyon… He woke several times and finally decided to get out of bed on the fifth or sixth time. It was early morning; the light was still gray. He donned his gray initiate robes and set off toward the temple.  
Abel had rarely been up so early at the temple. The normal buzz in the central courtyard that hummed during the day was dormant. The only sounds were the gentle hiss of the fountains, the rustling of the trees in the wind and the distant dull roar of the waterfall. He crossed the courtyard in silent step and slipped into the temple.  
He paused for a moment in the anteroom, between the outside and the inner sanctuary. On a whim, he sat down on the cool, hard stone. The semicircular alcove was ill lit; it was hardly even an anteroom, more of an intersection between the outside and the archway to the heart of the temple and the two curving hallways to the right and left. Abel was still sick and had felt a little faint, so he sat. He watched one of the candles that lined entryway, whose flame was little over an inch tall. It sat still, not fluttering in the breeze like so many others, but burned slow and steady, a smooth, solemn thing; it seemed hardly alive. But as Abel watched, and as Abel thought, it suddenly sprung, fluttering free, shimmering incandescently with such movement and dance. Another attack of the chills rolled through Abel and he shivered. The flame flashed, leaving only a trail of smoke dwindling in its place, writhing in the air like a snake. Abel let out a small “ah!” This one candle had gone out and it was his fault, he thought. He tried to renew its flame with the Force, concentrating with his hand, thinking fire, but he did not yet possess the skill. He stared at the candle, arm and hand outstretched, then his shoulders slumped and his hand fell. He watched as the trail of smoke drifted haphazardly toward the sanctuary. Coughing, Abel pulled himself up and he followed the trail inside, hunched as a weary traveler.  
He had tried sitting in a meditative pose below the Ray, but his sore joints and cramping muscles protested fiercely, so he removed himself to sit in a comfortable chair. He didn’t know what he came for. But still he sat, and still he thought under the spell of the rotating Ray. The crystal-like light so often found in the temple was absent in the yet-to-rise sun. But the Ray glowed with a faint light of its own, appearing to Abel now a dull green. Slowly it rotated, but never wavering, though Abel stared at it coldly. Rumbling silently on. It turned, and so Abel turned inward, thinking through everything that happened the day before yesterday. He thought as one folds a paper over and over, folding new creases ceaselessly over old creases so that the folding becomes impossible and the paper becomes a useless crumpled mess.  
He looked down and realized that his hands kept kneading each other. He didn’t even know he was doing it. These are not my hands, he thought. Otherwise, I would know what they were doing, wouldn’t I? Perhaps they were never really his after all.  
Suddenly, the sun rose outside and the great chorus of light blazed through the roof and down to the ground as a waterfall, and the Ray beamed green. Its reflection covered Abel like a spotlight, and he shielded his eyes from the intensity. He moved to more manageable light.   
Sometime later, he stood and exited, dragging himself to an upper floor where the council awaited him.  
.  
The seven masters sat at an ordinary round table, some tapping on their pads and desks, others smiling at the children as they entered and one (Master Prada), falling asleep. This was far from the scene in Abel’s head. (A great solemn affair with the seven masters vaulted high above them like judges handing down their doom). The seven initiates hesitated until Master Yolin indicated to the seats at the table.  
“Please sit.”  
They took their seats. Abel was grateful, for his knees were weak. His palms were sweaty and he couldn’t decide whether to lean forward, hands clasped together on the table, or to lean back, looking poised. He opted for slumped and head down.  
No one spoke for several seconds.  
One.  
Two.  
Three.  
Four.  
And it kept going.  
It was a long time to wait.  
Finally, Master Yul spoke in his gravelly, grave rumble.  
“Do you know that you acted wrongly?”  
Abel looked up. The master was surveying them carefully, though not disapprovingly. His long head passed slowly over each of the seven, as though in hope. As if falling, Abel suddenly felt worse than ever as his very being vibrated in chills. He let out a strained breath. Not knowing if he required an answer, it was Puli who finally spoke.  
“Yes, master. We do.” Master Yul turned to her and looked on her kindly.  
“Do you speak for your classmates, too?” She shrunk back a little and shrugged.  
“I think so. I think we all regret what we did. It was rash and ill-conceived and…disrespectful, both to the Jedi and to our hosts. But we did…well, we did think we were doing a good thing, but I see now that it was wrong.” Her falsetto voice finally shut off at the valve and she sheepishly sat back. Master Yul nodded slowly, while a couple of the other teachers looked like they wanted to speak. But it was clear that Master Yul was running the show.  
“Master,” Tiloa started, “we do understand. We – that is, And, Kay and I – talked about it last night. We accept our punishment, whatever it is.” Master Yul nearly smiled.  
“Your punishment?”  
“Yes…” Tiloa said uncertainly. He nodded. Then he looked straight at Abel. He looked away and saw Master Yolin absentmindedly spinning a stone on the table.  
“You believe Abel, too, understands, though you did not talk to him?” Abel’s face heated. He continued to watch Master Yolin’s ball spin.  
Tiloa nearly scoffed. “Well, of course, he’s almost sick with guilt. He didn’t even really want to come; he only came because we asked him.”  
For the first time, Master Yul looked troubled, and he looked to Abel. “You didn’t want to go with them, yet you went.” Abel thought and felt like the stone he saw: spinning. He half shrugged, then feeling the need to speak, did so.  
“Yes. Well…they asked me.”  
Master Yul continued looking at him looking at the green top turning until Tiloa snapped.  
“Does it matter, Master? We are all friends and we decide together and act together, and now we will face our punishment together.” Abel couldn’t help but laugh a little at Tiloa’s cavalier speech, especially when Master Kloop couldn’t take it anymore and let loose with an “Initiate!” He felt much of the tension in him and the room drain a little. The spinning had stopped.  
Master Yul raised his hand and she quieted, though he was smiling. “Yes, initiate, I think I see your point. So you all understand?” They all nodded, though the master focused on Kay.  
“Do you have more to say, Kay?” Abel looked and it did indeed look like Kay was teetering on the edge of speech.  
“It’s only –” he started suddenly, then plunged head, “while I understand that it is wrong to disrespect masters and leave our hotel as we did, I can’t but believe in our cause. We as Jedi must act for good, and this agent was a key to uncovering the events in the Hutt Empire. The public, even the Jedi – as Master Kloop told me – are in the dark over these events, and it is not right that they should be hidden. ‘Things in shadow are things in darkness’ as the Jedi say; also ‘Do not but be; act.’ Well, we acted to bring things to the light. Knowledge that must be known, for the Hutt Empire is certainly not on the side of the light, though it seems that it has been tolerated as such, and so it should be undone.” It seemed that Kay had not expected to be allowed to speak for so long, for he finished: “I…I still think that what we did was, while rash and disrespectful, not wrong.”  
Master Yul nodded several times at a glacial pace. His eyebrows lifted and he spoke. “Many things you have said, many wise things, many foolish, and many both. On these events you speak of, I can only tell you that there are things some Jedi know and you do not.” He paused, then smiled. “Words are like water, slippery and infinitely flexible. This is not the time or place for philosophical debate, so I will ask but one question: Do you feel, at the center of your being, good about what you have done? Did goodness come from your actions?”  
Kay thought and jutted out his chin. Abel couldn’t help but be in awe of Kay’s bravery, though he did think it easier to just accept and acquiesce. Kay started tapping his knee.  
“I respect you too much, Master, to want to directly disagree. But you ask me how I feel, and I feel good about what we did.” Some of the teachers murmured, but Master Yul just nodded.  
“Less needs being said than more needs to be done to know what you should.” Abel tried and failed to understand this cryptic statement. “We – the seven teachers – believe you are old and wise enough to regret your actions; your feelings are your own punishment. But we have decided that you shall instead assist our farmers and help tend our fields in the north on your off-days.” Abel looked at his classmates and saw several confused faces. They knew their food was mostly grown locally, both for educational purposes and as a principle of self-reliance, but he didn’t think any of them had been to these “fields” let along knew where they were.   
“Do not think of this as punishment, for it is not intended to be so. It is merely a way to give back, something we all need in our lives.” He looked especially at Kay who sat more sullenly than the rest of them. Master Yul suddenly laughed. “Why are you all so glum? You made a mistake, now learn from it! And be joyful, for Force’s sake, you’re putting a cloud over the whole world.” Master Yul had suddenly turned into a crotchety old man and Abel and several of the others couldn’t help but laugh heartily, though Master Kloop was noticeably sour-faced.  
As they were exiting, Master Yul called out to Abel, “And Initiate Abel, please go to the medical wing and get that cold taken care of!” Abel smiled and nodded. But as he left, he thought he heard Master Yul mumble to himself, “Though something tells me it would have cleared up on its own by tomorrow.”  
.  
Abel rose with the dawn on the morning of his off day. A month had passed since the incident on Bothawui. Things had gone mostly back to normal, except of course for their weekly forays as farmhands.  
Abel passed through the courtyard away from the temple and turned right on a dirt path through the grassy field. Most of Abel’s earlier interactions with the forests of Tython occurred to the left, to the south west. Instead, he walked for fifteen minutes or so, up the gentle incline of grass to its ridge. It was a clear morning and all the planet was singing as he looked over the nest of small hills and gullies which held their food. This pocket, hardly a square mile, was surrounded by the deep forest which hovered near it like an animal lying in wait to reclaim its own. But it only made the sun shine all the brighter on their fields of leaf and berry.  
Abel crested over the ridge and loped down across the grass until he met Nak, the Gran “Grower.” Abel was surprised to find out that he was the only non-robotic being continuously working here – he would have thought there’d be a whole team – and even more surprised to find out he was a Jedi.  
“Why?” Nak had asked, “D’ya think all the Jedi became famous starship pilots? Aye, it’s a thankless job, but one that needs doin’ and doin’ right.” Nak appeared a cantankerous (grumpy) old farmer, but he was all right.  
“Good morning, Nak,” Abel called. The grower had insisted on just a first name.  
Nak, who had been bending down to check on some pink lettuce, looked up. “Ahh…young Abel. You know, most of your classmates are already here working. Except for that And fella…” Nak grumbled, continuing to mumble incoherently.  
“What was that, Nak?” Abel asked with a smirk as he checked his assignments for the day.  
“Ah, mind your own, you, it wasn’t to you I was talkin.’”  
Abel laughed, then set off toward Bed #38. He walked under the shadow of Nak’s longhouse, both his living quarters and his shed and warehouse. He picked up a sack, hefted it over his shoulder, and turned to walk along the rows of plants and herbs. The wind picked up as he went, blowing across him, making the trees to his left creak and grown while the crops and grasses to his right fluttered. Scents of damp earth wafted, mixing with the fruity herbals scents like lavender, peach, and others besides. The sun was bearing down already as Abel found his bed for the day. Zek was caring for the adjacent bed.  
“Oh good, at least I have someone to talk to,” Zek said as Abel arrived. He stopped to wipe his brow, sweating.  
“Are you seriously sweating already?” Abel asked incredulously. “The sun’s barely up and you’ve been here – what – ten minutes?”  
“Fifteen,” Zek corrected. “I have to lug this thing around” – pointing to his sack – “and I have to bend down awkwardly the whole time tending to the plants. I don’t do manual labor.”  
“Well, neither do I, really,” Abel admitted. “But I think I can do this. It’s more gardening than farming.”  
“Well, it’s more than I usually do here,” Zek grunted. The farm system consisted of both the above ground plots as well as the underground crops which were generally the more plentiful and important crops. They also occasionally worked down there and some like Zek preferred it.  
Abel opened his bag containing pellets of…well, he didn’t really know, but good things to make plants grow. He then sprinkled the contents over the nearest groupings of opfzes, a fruit native to Ithor that looked and grew kind of like a tomato, but with a harder flesh like an apple. The name was hard to pronounce for humans so they usually called them opies.   
Abel, finished with this first grouping, hefted his bag over a few meters and continued the process.  
“What I don’t get,” Zek said, between breaths, “is why” – breath – “we can’t” – breath – “at least use repulsorlifts,” Zek finished.  
“Because!” Nak seemed to appear from nowhere. “It disrupts the plants! Stop asking stupid questions and get to work!”  
Zek mumbled a few curses under his breath and threw the last bit of his mixture into the plants. “I think he’s making things up just to give us a harder time.”  
Abel just shrugged. He didn’t mind it too much.  
An hour or so later, Abel was done feeding and watering his bed of opies. Now began the real work. He returned to the first group of four stalks and sat down casually, legs “criss-cross applesauce.” He reached out to the first stalk, a light steady breeze playing across his hands. He lightly cupped some of its leaves in one hand while the other pressed the ground, sensing for its roots. Abel closed his eyes and began to speak comforting words. He didn’t even think about what he was saying, just things like “rest and be happy,” “I am here, and harm will not come to you,” “I love you,” and things like that. Then he was silent and simply reached out with his mind. A minute later he opened his eyes. He smiled a little, looking at the opie. He patted the ground and moved on to the next one.  
He was never sure if he was doing things properly. There were no great “Jack-and-the-beanstalk” moments of growth, and he wasn’t even sure he could feel the normal tug of the Force. But he just trusted that he was following Nak’s ways correctly. They had all been a little skeptical when they were told of the process that would take up most of their time here, but Abel found it simple enough. It was a kind and quiet thing.  
By the time Abel was done, it was lunch time. He headed back to Nak’s Shack (Abel had called it such and when he taught them the meaning of the English word, it stuck). He found most of his classmates already there. And, who had arrived last in the morning, was already there Force-flicking nut shells to see how far they could sail before Nak barked at him to quit it. Kay, Puli, Zek, and Tiloa were sitting down with their pies and Abel joined them.  
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Tiloa said dryly as Abel sat down. Her face was blotched with dirt and she had taken off her shirt and tied it around her chest. “Did you enjoy your date with the opies?” she giggled.  
It was well-known that Abel was one of the few that actually rather enjoyed their duties.  
“Well, at least he’s back before Kyrana,” said Kay, gesturing over his shoulder. Abel looked and watched as Kyrana, with closed eyes, tended to a yellow-flowered plant, concentrating solemnly, not moving. Then she opened her eyes and looked so lovingly at her flower as she held its head of petals, and she smiled broadly. Abel didn’t think he had ever seen her fully smile.  
“Yeah, she gets really into it,” Tiloa agreed. Abel couldn’t help but watch the blue-headed girl flit among the field of yellow flowers. It was nice to see Kyrana actually happy for once, Abel thought. Instead of her grave, morose –   
“I don’t know, Tiloa,” And said, coming over, “I saw you loving those ensacta trees pretty hard earlier.”  
“Shut up, And,” she said, throwing her cup at him. He flicked it back with the Force and hit her in the head. “Ouch!” She held a hand to her head.  
“Well…you did throw the –” But And’s legs flew up in front of him as Tiloa had whipped with the Force, and he landed on his butt. They were all laughing.  
Well, Abel thought, really they all enjoyed working here, they just didn’t say it.  
“Enjoying our break, are we?” Nak had sauntered over. “Good. Then you’re all refreshed enough to carry that pile of hubba fruits.”  
They groaned.  
.  
Today they didn’t have to wake up so early, so Abel rolled out of bed with the sun already up in the sky. He peered out the window and saw Master Tul-Tik leading a group of younglings, probably off to the woods. He pulled on his gray clothes, then made his way to the bathroom, rinsing his mouth and teeth with Dentry solution (more efficient and way easier than brushing teeth).  
On his way out, he followed Lena out the door. She held the door open with a smile, then, with a whip of her brown hair, trotted across the courtyard to the temple.  
Probably on her way to tell the teachers about another vision, Abel thought. As he was watching her go, he tripped over one of the cobblestones. He shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned as he made his way to the farmland.  
His Ortolan friend, Lev, emerged out of a farther door as he was walking by and Abel waved. They fell into step on their way to the farmland, for Lev, hearing about it from Kyrana, had decided to actually volunteer to help.  
Abel had been spending more time with Lev since Bothawui, mostly because he felt a strange coldness between his friends; not the active cold frost created from hurt feelings, but the empty damp cold found on a moor that you can’t quite detect. It had been better since their time in the plant beds, but still.   
They arrived and Nak wasted no time.  
“Today, you’re going into the forest. Doin’ some brush cleanin’.” He turned and started walking off.  
They followed, but And called, “Are you going to explain?”  
“You younglings never give me the time to!” Nak said, returning with a bundle of what looked like leaf-blowers, though a little less clunky. “These are your tools for the day, ‘throwers.’ Flick this switch here to the right for fire, left for water, middle for off. OK? Easy.”  
They looked doubtful.  
“We’re gonna be tackling quadrant 5C, several miles away, so we’re gonna take the tram. Everyone follow me.” They started to and Nak called back, “And before you start asking questions, yes, I’ll be explaining more along the way.”  
They squished into a small boxcar that looked like it was built to carry a maximum two people and some equipment. As they shot through the forest, Nak continued.  
“The quadrant is one square mile. You’re gonna be working in pairs, clearing away some of the overgrown brush by burning it, and containing the fires with the water. Now I’ll be showin’ ya how it’s gonna work, but you’ll need to know this now. DO NOT LET THE FIRE GET OUT OF CONTROL. I don’t wanna be dealin’ with any of that, and neither do the inhabitants of this forest.”  
“I don’t think they’d want us there at all,” Kay whispered glumly, but Nak heard. He narrowed his three eyes at Kay.  
“Oh, I don’t know. Some of the carnivores might be pretty happy…” Kay just twitched and pouted, looking off to the side. Though Nak had faced forward, Abel saw a ghostly smile appear.  
Abel soon found out that the animals definitely did want them there. In addition to taking care of the health of the plant life in the forest, their job included looking after the health of the animals. Abel didn’t know exactly what they would be doing, but Nak just gave a “Oh, you’ll know what to do” answer. Lovely.  
Abel was partnered with Lev and they set out for the farthest corner. Abel was surprised to see how clear their way already was. He was expecting having to bushwhack his way there; most of Tython’s forests were dense, thick from branch to root with brambles, leaves, moss and rocks. But it felt more like he was strolling through a park; a park with trees the size of buildings and slippery silky grass, that is.  
The tracker they had been given showed them that they were at the right spot, and, true enough, Abel could see a small marker in the ground not ten meters to his right, indicating the boundary of 5C. Something tickled Abel’s nose and his sniffed, inhaling the acrid scene of smoke.  
“Looks like some have already started,” Abel said to Lev. Lev just nodded and looked at his thrower uncertainly.  
“Well, I guess we start?”  
Soon enough, they had a small blaze going. Abel had taken charge with the flames, while Lev doused them before they reached the towering trees. They wanted to clear the ground of weeds and dead leaves and such to create a healthier atmosphere. Abel understood this argument, but still…  
Lev seemed to have similar thoughts. “I don’t really understand what we’re doing.”  
“I know,” Abel answered, “I’d probably feel more comfortable with a thrower if I had a little more time –”   
“No,” Lev interrupted, “I mean, why are we burning living things?”  
Abel just shrugged. “I think they do this on my home world too. It’s supposed to be better for the overall forest health.”  
“So Nak said.” Lev shook his head, causing his trunk to flap around. Abel hid his smile. Abel thought Lev was going to continue, but he had lapsed into silence again. He had been about to suggest they change jobs – he was getting just a bit hot – but he decided against it.   
Lev was looking down at a burning shrub. Its leaves were glowing at its tips and it crumpled so delicately that it seemed a creature collapsing against itself. Soon the wind caught it and its blackened husk flew away, lighter than air.  
The air was filled with ash. Thankfully, Nak had given them masks. Abel was reminded of Kel Dor, the species of Ma Fenn who originally found him. They wear masks everywhere. Most inhabited planets have oxygen levels appropriate for humans, and those lucky enough to be like them. Others have to wear masks. So here was Abel, masked in the forest, burning things.  
By the time they finished burning and dousing their designated area, the sun was at its zenith. When Abel called a final halt, Lev collapsed against a rock and sat staring at the charred remains. Abel took his thrower and leaned it up against a tree. They ate their lunch in silence. Then they packed up and headed for the animals.  
Nak had said 5C was home to at least several hundred of animals of at least ten different species that he “looks after.” Abel was confused by how Nak related to these animals. Were they his livestock? Were they wild animals he kept tabs on, like scientists keep tabs to take note of population changes, etc.? Abel figured the latter, but when Nak had mentioned feeding them and “shearing the mussak’s fur,” he had had to ask.  
“So are they the Jedi’s animals? There aren’t any fences, are there?” Nak turned his three eyes to him which his signature piercing look.  
“No, there wouldn’t be, would there?” But seeing the questioning faces from some of the other Jedi, he persevered. “No, they are not our animals. We do not own them in the way farmers own their nerfs. We take care of them, as we have for generations, so they are more or less domesticated, in their own fashion. We care for them, and they trust us, so hunting ‘ems easy. It’s a symbiotic relationship, as it were. We learned it from the Hoden people on Tortel a couple hundred years ago.”  
“The animals still trust you after you hunt them?” And said disbelieving.  
“Well, they don’t always know it’s me. And besides, there’s plenty enough other things in the forest to kill ‘em. At least they’re more protected here, so they generally stay here where the eatin’s good.”  
So now Abel and Lev were on a mission to ensure they weren’t too frightened by the flames. They walked back through the world of gray and ember and out on the other side to another quadrant. They began placing food around the nearby area and made themselves scarce, but after thirty minutes, still no animals had come.  
“Welp,” Abel said, finally, “I’m at a loss.” He looked at Lev who was frowning. “Any ideas?”  
“Maybe…” Lev hesitated, “wave the food around? Help them smell it.” Abel shrugged, doubtfully. They could probably smell it already. “We should probably leave,” Lev said. “They still know we’re here.”  
“But Nak said they would come up to him. They trust him.”  
“But that’s him. How do we make them trust us?”  
Abel sat down on the ground. He didn’t know. “I don’t know, maybe we sing to them,” he joked, thinking of Disney princesses and their animal helper friends.  
But Abel saw Lev’s eyes go bright with possibility. Abel rolled his eyes. Of course that would appeal to Lev, even if it was a stupid idea.  
“Lev, you can’t think I was serious.”  
“It could be worth a try.” Abel just shook his head.  
“Oh dear…”  
Lev stood straight, legs planted firmly to the ground like a tree. He took a couple breaths and wheezy toots from his trunk. Warming up? Then he reached out his hand.  
He started low, so low that Abel’s ears could barely detect it. It was a rumbling, sonorous sound, slow and sad in melody, musically mythic. The notes undulated, a pulsing pond with ripples so bare, waves washed over barely breaking, up and down, up and down, groaning, going to the edges of the woods.  
It was comforting though, for all its power. And soon, the pitch was higher, the melody more distinct, and higher and higher it went so that it became like birdsong, blissfully sailing to the sky, joyful. And Abel finally sensed the truth as he looked at Lev like he hadn’t before, so full of hope and home, that he was using the Force in song. The Force surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together. Is that not what music does?  
Lev’s hands were facing outward, as if he was conducting a symphony – which he was – trying to create a sense of peace in the woods, an invitation. Soon, hardly to Abel’s surprise, animals of two legs, four legs, hair, wing and hoof, began to appear. They went with calm, unafraid of the two figures standing so brazenly. They bent and began to eat.  
Some even continued past the food, sniffing and nuzzling the blue creature creating such sighing sounds. Winged creatures fluttered near and sat upon his shoulders.  
Abel stared in awe. “Wow, you’re one unique Disney princess,” he said, laughing broadly. There stood this dopey blue elephant-man surrounded by clamoring shires and kapirs, while birds twittered around his head.  
“What’s a disniprinses?” Abel shook his head.  
“Never mind,” Abel couldn’t stop smiling. “Yeah, but how can we get them to eat?” Lev had stopped singing, but still the animals flocked to him.  
He moved toward the food and set the animals down, trying to direct them to their appropriate meals. In such an atmosphere of peace, Abel was also able to guide the animals, and they were soon after him, too, for affection.  
As they were playing, Kyrana and Kay appeared. Kay stood with hands on his hips, looking impressed.  
“We heard your dulcet tones from our quadrant and had to come take a look for ourselves. You really have them eating out of your hand,” Kay exclaimed. Abel snorted and bent down to pet a saarl. “Where did you learn to do that,” Kay asked. Abel looked up and saw Kay looking at him.  
“Oh,” Abel said, motioning awkwardly to Lev who had his back turned, “no, it was Lev. I was just along for the ride.” Kay looked taken aback.  
“Oh, wow, Lev, that was…really cool!” Kyrana had already moved over to Lev and was helping him spread out the food.  
“Yeah, we just laid out the food and hoped for the best,” Kay whispered to Abel. “Kyrana tried meditating, hoping that would bring animals nearer, but no such luck. We were basically giving up by the time we heard the singing.”  
Abel’s response was cut short by a high-pitch growl. He saw there, beyond the bent figures of Lev and Kyrana, on a small hill of rocks, three manka cats staring down at them.  
Kyrana and Lev stood up and quickly stood with Kay and Abel. The other animals had also looked up and some were scattering.  
“It looks like you worked your voice a little too well,” Abel said to Lev. He frowned in thought.  
Kay took charge. “OK, Kyrana, you distract them, then climb up that tree over there, it has several good branches in it. I’ll –”  
“No,” Lev interrupted. Kay looked astounded at Lev’s intrusion. Lev wasn’t usually one for coming up with battle plans, or even really speaking unless specifically prompted. “Do nothing; I will take care of it.” Kay looked at the others, but Abel already had an idea of what Lev had planned.  
And sure enough, Lev began to sing. But this time, it was harsh, like radio static; but it seemed strangely lulling to Abel, as if he wanted nothing more in the world than to fall asleep. His eyes stayed open, but his mind was lulled…lights on, but nobody home. Then a few seconds later – or it could have been minutes, Abel didn’t know – everything was here again.  
The manka cats advanced slowly, but cowed; the other animals watched them warily, but soon returned to their meals as the cats went to theirs. They were happy.  
Abel turned to Lev. “What did you do?” Lev’s doe eyes looked back as Kay and Kyrana also stared at him, fascinated.  
“They needed calming, that’s all.” He started walking in the direction of the tracks. Abel looked at the other two and shrugged. They collected their things and made to follow Lev. Abel turned to look once more on the scene of natural harmony. He smirked. And everyone thinks Lev is powerless. One of the manka cats moved over graciously to let in a shire. If that isn’t power, I don’t know what is. He left.  
.  
“…and then the manka cats just came to eat their food, docile as a lamb!” Master Prada laughed, smiling. Abel had just finished telling their Mediation teacher, Master Mein Prada, about Lev’s impressive mediation several days before. Kyrana was standing and had occasionally jumped in with a detail or two, but Lev was finishing his work for the day. Abel suspected he was too modest to hear his tale regaled.  
“It sounds like impressive work, initiate!” Master Prada called. Lev looked up, nodded morosely, and got back to his work.  
They had taken over one of the cabins to the north, and Abel could just see Nak’s gardens out the window. They were learning the theory behind healing. As Master Prada said almost every lesson, “it’s more of an art than a science.” Of course, Jedi know how bodies work, and they know they are able, with great attention, to heal with the Force, but how those go together is still a relative mystery.  
Master Prada called attention to the class. Most of them had finished and were sitting around; And and Zek were playing doryo and the look on Zek’s face said And was up to his old tricks. “I’d like you all to partner up and apply the theory. I don’t expect it to work perfectly; in fact, most of you will most likely feel you’ve done nothing. But that’s fine,” Master Prada assured them. He divided them up and Abel was partnered with Lena. It was And who asked the obvious question.  
“Master, what if neither of us are injured?” Master Prada’s eyes looked far away, but they soon brightened and winked.  
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”  
Abel rolled his eyes. Yeah, that sounds safe.  
He approached Lena cautiously. He hadn’t had many intimate interactions with her.  
“So do you…have any injuries?” She stared at him, then shook her long brown hair around her shoulder. She reached into a pouch on her belt and withdrew a small pointed object. She plucked her arm and soon a hair of blood dribbled from it.  
“Yes.”  
“Oookay, well, I’m just gonna get one of these…” Abel pulled out a spool of gauze from his own pack. She held out her arm and he dabbed the blood, then pressed the gauze down. The healing process didn’t require skin to skin contact and it was probably better that he didn’t risk spreading germs. Plus, it was gross.  
They sat down next to each other and Lena rested her arm on her knee. Abel took her arm in both her hands, with his left hand over the wound. He thought it was odd, but he felt his left hand was more natural, even though he was right handed.  
Lena sighed, then looked off to her right. You’d think was an everyday occurrence. Abel, however, was concentrating on the wound, letting his mind fade, letting the Force flow through…  
After a few minutes, though, it felt like little was happening. Abel looked around and saw similar results across the room. It looked like Zek and Kay had ceased working and started chatting. Abel looked back to Lena who was continuing to stare off into space. Her hair fell back behind her face like a curtain, swaying ever so slightly. Abel took note of the arm he was holding. It was so delicate; Abel was suddenly impressed how –   
Abel’s thoughts were cut short as she started to remove her arm from his hold. “I think that’s enough, it’s clearly not working.” Her brown eyes flicked to Abel’s and he wondered if she had sensed that he had been thinking of her.  
“Sorry, Master Prada had said that might happen.”  
She sniffed and turned her head up and away. “Yes,” she said, and that was that. She checked her arm, and said matter-of-factly, “I’ll take care of this later.” Abel offered her his arm, but she held up her hand. “No, I don’t need the practice, thank you.” He shrugged.  
Abel didn’t know if he should remain sitting with her or go…somewhere else. But it appeared that Lena had something else in mind.  
“What,” she began, her voice high pitched, “was it exactly you said Levenbro did in the forest? Sang, or something?” Her face looked innocent, her wide eyes, but Abel could see the tension in her posture.  
“Yes, he used the Force through song to influence the animals.” He wasn’t sure what she was looking for.  
“Then it was a form of Force suggestion?”   
Abel looked sideways at her. “Maybe. I don’t really know.”  
She nodded, then seemed to realize she was on pins and needles and slumped down. “It just sounded like something out of the Journal of the Whills,” she said conversationally.  
Wait, Abel thought, he knew this. “Aren’t those old Jedi texts? Poems?”  
She nodded. “They are a record of Jedi events through all time. It is our most treasured text,” she added, as if he should already be able to quote the thing.  
“I thought it was only a record after the Empire.” She narrowed her eyes.  
“No-o.” She shook her head. “It is a record since the founding of the Je’daii.”  
“Well, what are the Whills?” She took a large breath to deal with his ignorance.  
“They are another word for the Force. They are also beings in the first part of the Journal, creatures of the Force that created the forceful beings that became the Je’daii. It tells of sister and brother, Ashla and Bogan. It was Bogan who sang to influence others to do his bidding,” she said scathingly. But Abel had to back up.  
“Wait, aren’t those the names of the moons of Tython?” Abel instinctively looked up at the ceiling. Lena sniffed.  
“Where do you think the names come from?” She sighed again, but a frown grew on her face.  
“It’s one thing for you, you don’t even know. But everyone else…” She glared around her. “They’ve never appreciated where they are. This is Tython!” Lena became animated. “This is where it all happened, the birth of the Jedi, and they care nothing, nothing, for the Whill of the Force.” Abel frowned at her as she drew her knees to her chin.  
They came back together as a class and reported on their results. Abel was thankful to learn that so far no one had succeeded. Master Prada was just reassigning partners for a second go of it when Abel noticed a shape behind the master.   
Master Prada had evidently noticed it to, for he said, “Ah, it looks like we have a visitor today. Initiates, this is Ma Fenn, a Jedi Knight of the Council.” Master Fenn waved quickly, then bent to whisper to Master Prada. The mediation teacher nodded and mumbled something, gesturing to a seat near the wall. “Master Fenn is here on a routine check-in to report to the Council. Not to worry,” he assured them, “he’s more here for me than he is for you. Just continue on as you would.”  
Abel nodded to Master Fenn. Her eyes, as always, were obscured by her goggles, but she gave an inscrutable nod back. Abel turned to Kyrana, his new partner for the exercise. He quickly offered to prick himself and started scrounging around for a tool.  
“Don’t bother,” Kyrana said, “I already have a wound.” She showed him the laceration on her palm that was still gleaming red. He held her hand in his right hand, and suddenly, she seemed to hesitate. He placed his left in her palm, trying to make it casual. But still, Abel felt incredibly self-conscious sitting there holding Kyrana’s hand. Kyrana, too, looked awkward. Abel thought she had never looked so young, sitting there, small and doubtful. She was usually so confident and aloof he forgot she was actually younger than he was.  
“You know, you really should be more careful around sharp objects,” Abel straight-faced. Kyrana frowned and thought Abel ridiculous until she realized he was only joking.  
“Really, is that your way of making conversation?” Abel snorted. “Besides” – she looked directly at him – “I’m always careful.” She held the look so intensely Abel thought she was going to murder someone. But then she broke off and laughed. She trailed off.   
After a minute or so, Abel asked, “Do you know the Journal of the Whills?”  
She shrugged. “Mostly.”  
“Lena was talking to me about it. She thought Lev’s episode in the forest reminiscent of something Bogan did, apparently.” Kyrana’s eyes grew dark again.  
“Atchkala’a tupala –” Kyrana stopped her tirade. “It was nothing the same,” Kyrana said, darkly. “That character, Bogan, was bending a mass of people to his will.”  
“But technically,” Abel started, “that is what Lev did. Isn’t that just what Force suggestion is?” Abel thought he may have crossed a line, but Kyrana just looked back at him imploringly.  
“No,” she said, eyes growing bigger, “Bogan made people do things, things against their will, terrible things. Lev only helped. He…he made peace flow through their minds so they weren’t afraid. He made them realize the truth.” She broke off and looked over to Lev who was practicing with And. She looked back to Abel and hesitated before speaking. “It is good of you to befriend Lev.” She bit her lip. “I’m his only friend here.”  
“Oh.” Abel half-shrugged, half-nodded. “Yeah, well, he’s so…interesting, you know.” Then he breathed out. “He’s, he’s good.” Kyrana nodded and smiled. “I know what it’s like. I arrived here and everyone had already known each other, and already knew all about the Force… I mean, you’re…how old are you?”  
“Thirteen.”  
“And you’re still way better than me.”  
“Of course,” she said with a smile. “But you are different from him, you know.” Abel furrowed his brow. “You came here and on your first day made friends. And, Tiloa and the others…they took you in. In a way they never did with Lev.”  
“Or you.” Abel couldn’t help it, but she just eyed him.  
“Yes, but, not quite. I…” She stopped mid-sentenced and seemed to…blush? “You are lucky. Even if you can’t throw a proper Force punch.” They chuckled. Kyrana put her other hand over Abel’s and grasped it as a touch of tenderness.  
Abel felt a slight tingle in his hand, but not on the back where Kyrana touched, but on the palm that faced her wound. Kyrana had evidently felt it to for she removed her hand from his grasp. She gasped.  
It was healed. No sign, no scar, just smooth skin.  
They quickly called Master Prada over, and the others trickled in to see, standing around them in a circle. Master Prada held Kyrana’s hand, turning it over, examining it.  
“Well done, Abel, well done.” He was beaming, his little go-tee shivering with excitement. “I think on that, we are dismissed for the day.” The gaggle of initiates gathered their things, each of them grilling Abel and Kyrana about what happened and how they could replicate it. They exited the cabin like a bunch of school kids (which, I guess, they were), as the setting sun cast a reddish glow over the hills of fruit and flower.   
“We’re gonna have to celebrate,” Tiloa said. “Our boy here actually beat us all at something.”  
“Yeah,” Abel said, “whadaya think about that, And.” He was trying to keep a straight face.  
“I suppose I can let you have one. This time. But see, now I know we’re on even terms. I can stop taking it easy on you in combat training.”  
“Oh I see…” They laughed. Abel was suddenly struck with the intensity of love for these people, these friends he had made in the most foreign of foreign lands. Kyrana was right. He was lucky indeed.  
He leaned against the railing overlooking the beautiful fields. He assured his friends he’d meet up with them at the dorms, and as Kyrana, who was the last to leave, went down the steps, she turned and met Abel’s eye, giving him a rare broad smile. He smiled back then turned to the fields before him. He could see Nak wading through the grasses, and he thought he heard the faint traces of pipe music wafting in like a summer breeze. Perhaps he could even smell the notes, or maybe they were just the notes of strawberry and peach.  
“That was impressive.”  
Abel turned to face Master Fenn. “Was it? I didn’t try to do anything. It just happened.”  
She studied him. “Yes. I could…sense that.”  
“Overall,” Abel began, “I think I’ve been a bit of a disappointment here. I haven’t been able to do much.”  
She unfolded her crossed arms and placed them on the railing.  
“I would not say that. It seems that your teachers speak rather well of you.”  
Abel shrugged. “But I cannot do –”  
“No one expects you to equal your classmates, children who have been here since they were toddling in their undergarments.”  
Abel looked sideways to Master Fenn to see if she was joking, but she was as stone-faced as ever. “Yes, I suppose.”   
She made a small hacking noise. “You suppose. The way of the Jedi is not about power, it is about light. You can be proud of yourself.”  
“So these lessons are unimportant then?” She bristled and ignored his comment.  
“You have made friends here?” Abel felt strangely self-conscious.  
“Yes.” He paused. “I always thought of Jedi being solitary folk.”  
“Some may be. But friends are ever our greatest strength. Always remember that true power, the power of the Force, comes not from me or you but from us; not the one, but the many; not the self, but the world.”  
She slowly bowed to Abel, then left. Abel watched her graceful form glide across the lawn. He seemed to see himself in profile against the sky, as another might see him. He looked at his hands. Can these be my hands? He curled them, making a fist, then flicked them out one by one. Yes, he thought, they must be. He gave one more wistful look at the lovely land and set off. It is just as well. The sun is setting lower, and its shadows of the forest would soon cover the flowering fields.


	8. Namiko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> I wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone that has been reading my story. I don’t think this is everyone’s cup of tea, especially not in the Star Wars fandom, so I appreciate it.  
> I would also love to hear what you think of it. What do you think of the characters? Is there anything you’re confused about? Excited to see happen? Curious about? Art is meant to generate discussion, so I appreciate constructive and informed opinions. Five chapters left of part 1 (Chapter 9 to come tomorrow night)!  
> .  
> Pronunciation Guide:  
> namiko = NAH-mee-koh  
> Jomar = YO-mar  
> Eera = EER-uh  
> Hejram = HEDGE-rahm  
> .  
> New Concept/Word  
> namiko  
> steelsabers  
> Nemoidians/Duros – while the general relationship is canon, I am expanding the Duro mindset that Odo espouses

Chapter 8: Namiko  
.  
The planet turned, the sun traveled the sky, and years passed. Abel was eighteen. He had visited Earth several times on holiday, bringing back wonderful tales from the stars, but never did he stay longer than a week, for his training brought him ever back.  
Today Abel awoke to a tickling sensation on his cheek. He gently brushed off the cricket creature and stretched, the bed creaking. Outside the roar of the waterfall was keenly heard and Abel imagined he could feel its spray tumbling in through the window.  
The initiates of his class, now the eldest at the Temple, had moved into individual cabins scattered throughout the forest. It was to teach them responsibility. Abel’s cabin was little more than a room, with his bed pushed to one side and a small kitchen on the other. Between was a separate door leading to the bathroom.  
Abel padded across the carpeted wood floor to said door. A few minutes later he proceeded to the kitchen, opening a cabinet and pulling out a piece of bread, courtesy of the grains of Nak. Abel had harvested his own grain, made his own flour and baked his own bread. He smeared it with a berry paste and chomped on it. He did not turn on his pad.  
Once finished, he sat on a mat.  
Once finished, an hour later, he grabbed his pack for the day and set out.  
His feet pounded down the trail he had started to wear down during the last few weeks. He noticed the sprouting pink flowers called namiko, whose petal heads resembled octopi, tendrils curling like grasses. When they sprouted, the others wouldn’t be far behind.  
He reached the cliff side by the waterfall. The rocks were drenched from the mists and in between grew small tufts of grass. Abel peered over the edge, over the hundred foot drop, then looked up where the water first crested over to cascade down and down. Abel was in between on his own cliff. There was no bridge to the other side.  
This was the main reason he was assigned to this cabin. It would force Abel every day to confront an obstacle, and every day Abel would trust in the Force to ferry him forward.  
Abel backed up a few paces. Then he ran.  
He planted his foot against the slippery rocks and launched himself over the chasm, over the mists. The Force went with him, like a mist itself, propelling him on while the waterfall to his right looked on. Through the air he flew, wind whipping at his face and feet.  
Then thump! He hit land on the other side. His feet stuck, like a gymnast, as he bent his knees to absorb the force of the jump. A smile crept to his face as it often did then. He continued his walk to school.  
.  
“I can’t do it, Mr. Abel,” the youngling cried.  
“Of course you can, Jomar,” Abel replied. “You know, I couldn’t even move a rock two years ago?”  
The young Togruta boy giggled. “You must have been bad!”  
“Hey!” Abel put a hand to his chest as if wounded.   
They were gathered by the Crystal Lake for lessons that day. Abel and the other Jedi of his class had begun helping teach the younger ones in the academy half a year before. As the eldest class, they were expected to pass on their lessons. Also, Master Yul had said, the greatest way to learn is to teach.  
“He was bad; I remember when he arrived here.”  
Abel turned his eye on her. “Thanks, Eera.” She shrugged. Eera was in the class immediately below Abel’s and many in her class were also helping out, though mostly shadowing the older ones. Eera was also an Umbaran, colloquially known as the Shadow People. They were notoriously cold, and had a dark sense of humor, so Abel couldn’t always tell when Eera was joking. Like now.  
Eera was a mystery to Abel. She was a little girl, but she had more cynicism packed into her than everyone else at the Academy combined. After researching more about Umbarans (Eera refused to discuss it), Abel found that theirs was an especially ruthless society, filled with almost a hundred levels of castes every Umbaran knew by heart, with the sole purpose of an Umbaran to move up the caste system, usually through cruel tactics. When he brought it up with her, her eyes pierced his and she was silent the rest of the day. Abel apologized, and all she said was: “Ah. I thought you might have been tricking me.”  
Abel had no idea how he was supposed to have been tricking her, but that was Eera.  
“Eera was right, though, Jomar, I was bad.” He glanced at her, and sure enough, saw her grimace. She never seemed to know how to respond to Abel when he agreed with her. “So I have faith that you’ll be much better than me. Besides, think how cool it’ll be when you can move rocks underwater!”  
Jomar’s eyes lit up. “Yeah!”  
They were teaching the young ones how to use the Force to hold their breath for longer periods at a time, which could be a vital skill if they need to weave their way through toxic fumes or traverse a labyrinth underwater.  
Jomar scrunched up his little face, determined to do it. With a great gulp of air, he shot back underwater, a loud splash echoing across the lake.  
Abel glanced to the nearest alcove of the lake where Kyrana was working with another pair. She and Hejram, a Mirialan girl, were deep in discussion, their heads bowed to one another. Suddenly, they both let loose a sharp laugh that turned into giggles and their student bobbed his head up to see what the matter was. The girls waved him away (no matter, no matter), but they kept glancing at each other, snorting. Abel couldn’t help but think that they’d fit in perfectly at a mall on Earth.  
“You stare at her often,” Eera observed. Abel flinched.  
“What? No I don’t.”  
Eera’s eyes drifted across his body. Oh yeah, Umbarans could also see heat.  
“You are lying, or else you are still feeling the effects of –”  
“O.K., perhaps I do sometimes. But I watch a lot of people. It’s called people-watching. It’s a thing.”  
“Hmm, I don’t think that’s what they call it.”  
Before he could answer, Jomar popped up gasping for breath.  
“Three minutes!” He yelled, slapping his watch. “Three minutes! Three minutes! Ha, ha ha ha ha!” He flopped back onto land and did a little dance. Abel looked bemused at his little apprentice.  
“Well done, Jomar,” he laughed. He noticed Kyrana and Hejram had turned their heads at Jomar’s exclamation. Abel knelt down to pat Jomar on the back, but Jomar, who was overcome with joy, wrapped his arms around Abel in a hug. Eera stood off to the side, like a tower among willows in the wind.  
Abel got up. “Jomar, do you want to give Eera a hug too?” he said tentatively. Eera stiffened, but she needn’t have worried.  
“No,” he said, without an explanation. “What can I do now?”  
Abel glanced at Eera with mock solemnity. “Well, we could try the maze, but it is pretty difficult. I don’t know if you’re ready…”  
“Yes I am!” Jomar answered defiantly. “You said I could do it today, you promised yesterday!”  
“Did I?” Abel pretended to think.  
“Yes, you did. I remember it.” Jomar crossed his arms and pouted.  
“Alright, if you remember it, then I trust you.” Jomar raised his arms in triumph as Abel laughed again. “O.K., O.K., you remember what we went over, right?”  
Between the shore of the lake and the island in the center was a vast system of rocks and tunnels. The Jedi had long ago mapped several routes to get from one side to the other (this was the kind of thing Jedi did for fun). Abel had gone over the route with Jomar many times, but Abel had refused to let him go until he was able to hold his breath for three minutes. It should take him only two, but Abel wanted to be sure.  
“I know the way,” Jomar said, batting away Abel’s concern.   
“I just want to make sure you are taking this seriously,” Abel said, gently gripping Jomar’s shoulder. “This is a hard task. It took me several tries.”  
“But you were bad at things though,” Jomar said matter-of-fact. Abel sighed. Once kids found something funny…  
“Yes, that’s true.”  
“I’ll bet I can beat your first time. Maybe her time, too!” Jomar said, pointing at Eera. “What did you do your first time?”  
“Alright, that’s enough, Jomar,” Abel said, guiding him back to the task at hand. Besides, Eera was looking slightly sickly.  
Abel took Jomar by both shoulders and positioned him just so in front of where the underwater maze began.  
“Breathe, Jomar. Breathe.” Jomar’s breath came out in little puffs, and Abel couldn’t help but smile at the little sound.  
A small breeze rippled across the lake.  
“The Force will not abandon you without breath. Let it guide you, let it dwell within you…” Abel continued the chant that they had been taught, but it was always easier to master your breath when you are doing nothing; it is much harder when you are pulling through the water.  
“Go when you are ready.”  
Jomar stood before the lake, his eyes closed. Several seconds went by. Just as Abel thought there might be something wrong, Jomar dove into the water and entered the maze.  
Abel and Eera watched the surface of the water which betrayed nothing about what was happening underneath.  
Abel turned to Eera. “Are you O.K.? You seemed a little…off.”  
She stared ahead. “I am fine.”  
Abel continued to stare at Eera, hoping she might say what was bothering her. He knew she was never one to betray her feelings, but still he hoped.  
Her dark purple eyes flicked to his, but darted away, narrowing.  
The birds in the trees behind them whistled.  
Abel thought he heard her stir, but then he heard a shout from the right. Kyrana and Hejram were hailing him. He raised up his hand in reply, but they waved more vigorously.  
“Keep an eye on Jomar, will you?” Abel said. Eera could see Jomar’s heat through the water. “I’ll go see what they want.” Abel jogged across the lakeshore grasses and over to the girls.   
Kyrana had that bubbly look about her one usually sees on the faces of tipsy people. She wouldn’t look Abel directly in the eye and kept looking pointedly at Hejram. Hejram seemed to finally lose whatever battle of wills was going on and huffed.  
“Fine, I’ll ask him, but for the record, it was Kyrana who brought it up,” she said to Abel, amidst Kyrana’s protestations. Now Abel was intrigued. “You know the namiko flower?”  
“Yes…” Abel said, puzzled.  
“What do you think it smells like?”  
“Smells like?”  
“Yeah.”  
Abel jerked his head. “I don’t know…a flower?”  
Hejram began to hum with laughter, but Kyrana kicked her. “Can you describe it?”  
“Why is this funny?”  
“No reason,” Hejram said, innocently. “We think the flower smells differently, and we heard that humans…think it smells weird.”  
“The only thing weird is this conversation,” Abel shook his head.  
“C’mon, just answer the question, Abel,” Kyrana said, smirking.  
“I don’t know…freshness? Like the opening of something new. But also…a tangy smell, like wine.”  
“Do you find it…intoxicating?” Hejram busted out laughing, like a hyena.  
“I haven’t really smelled them enough to know.”  
“Maybe you should sample them more often.”  
“Maybe I should.”  
“Fine, fine…” Kyrana interrupted. She seemed embarrassed from making fun of Abel. “Thanks for solving our argument.”  
“But what even was your argument?”  
“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. She glanced back at him. Abel bugged his eyes out. She laughed again, and waved him away.  
“A freshness and wine,” Hejram laughed again.  
“What? I didn’t know how to describe –”  
“Abel?” Kyrana said, changing the subject, “where is your youngling?”  
“Oh! He’s going through the maze…” Abel looked over to the island. Jomar was not there. Had he come back already? But then he glanced to where he had started, but only Eera was there.  
What…?  
Abel took off at a run.   
“Where is he?” he demanded of Eera. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. “Did he come out?” The look on her face told him all he needed to know. But he couldn’t understand. Surely, she could see him. Eera looked at him, fear in her eyes, but something else, as well…  
He understood. “Where is he?”  
“A-about three quarters across.”  
Abel Force-leapt into the water with an angry splash. He shook his face clear, then stroked over to the spot and dove down.  
The silent underwater pounded his ears as he drove down. He found one of the few entrances and pulled himself into the tunnel, bubbles trailing from his mouth.  
Which way? He turned to his right and began to frantically paddle. He could barely see, light from the sun hardly filtering into the tunnel. He tried to sense with the Force where his youngling might be, but he couldn’t concentrate.  
Jomar! he shouted with his mind.  
He reversed course and swam back the other way along the tunnel.  
Where are you, where are you?  
He had to find him. But what if… No. No.  
Suddenly, Abel bumped into something. Jomar! His body was floating in the middle of the tunnel. Abel grabbed him and realized what had happened: Jomar has hit his head; blood was seeping away like smoke. Abel tried to drag Jomar, but he couldn’t move fast enough and in all his panic, he was running out of air.  
Just then, he saw a shadow pass into the tunnel. Kyrana hovered near the hole, illuminated by the sun. Frantically, Abel squealed, releasing the last bit of air he had left. Kyrana slithered over to him, and, passing Jomar onto Kyrana, Abel crawled out of the tunnel alone and shot to the surface, wrenching those first sweet gulps of air.  
They made it back to the lakeshore where Hejram helped them lay Jomar on the ground while their youngling and Eera looked on.  
Kyrana got right to work, placing her hand on Jomar’s sternum. She placed a few fingers on Jomar’s injured head, but decided it could wait.   
Abel watched, hardly daring to breathe. Please, please, Kyrana…  
She closed her eyes, and with one hand on Jomar’s stomach, and the other above his mouth, pulled with the Force, and Jomar choked back to life.  
Abel let out a shuttering sigh as Jomar turned over to hack out the remaining water. Kyrana looked at Jomar’s forehead again.  
“This does not look too bad. Can you sit up?” she asked Jomar kindly.  
He nodded uncertainly. “I think so.” Kyrana held him and helped him to a sitting position. He began to stand, but fell against Kyrana.  
“Here, I’ll take him,” Hejram offered.  
“Thanks,” Kyrana said, passing him off to her mentee. Kyrana was tired enough from her swim and healing. Hejram began to lead Jomar off to the temple.  
Kyrana let out a puff, and looked to Abel and Eera. “What happened?”  
Eera glanced fearfully at Abel.  
Abel had understood, as cruel as it might sound. Umbarans were never known for their compassion; in fact, they were trained and born with an inclination for mistrust and loathing. Every day, she had to fight against her natural programming as an Umbaran to become a Jedi. Today, when she was reminded of Jomar’s future, she was reminded that he could very well supplant her, as any of these Jedi could. And when she saw him struggle, she slipped.  
“It was my fault,” Abel answered. “I should have been paying more attention. Eera didn’t know how long Jomar was supposed to be underwater for, and if she hadn’t been paying attention, I might not have known where to look.”  
“Oh,” Kyrana said. She quickly nodded a thank you to Eera, but refocused on Abel. “Sorry for distracting you.”  
“Don’t be sorry. It was my fault.”  
Abel glanced to Eera. He had hoped to see her subside into relief that all would be well, that he wasn’t going to speak about her inaction, but instead, she looked even more distressed. She was frowning at the ground as if trying to comprehend why the grass even existed at all.  
Kyrana touched Abel’s arm.  
“These things will happen, Abel. Do not be angry with yourself.”  
He nodded, thankful for her kindness even if it was misplaced.  
Kyrana looked up to the sky where the sun burned in its zenith.  
“It is past midday. We should be getting to class.”  
They trudged back to the temple side-by-side, Eera trailing like a ghost behind them.  
.  
It was hot; so Master Pit had thrown open the windows wide of their practice gazeebo as they prepared for their latest bout. Abel retrieved his saber from his cubby and prepared to duel with And, focusing on the fourth movement in Form III – Soresu – lightsaber combat.  
They had graduated from wooden sticks to sabers only a couple months previously. These weapons were called “steelsabers:” they were long metal rods that were perfectly balanced like lightsabers, but instead of cutting their opponent in half, they delivered a nasty shock. While not enough to incapacitate, they were certainly painful enough to avoid at all costs.  
“Argh! Dammit!” Abel yelled as And got another shot inside. Abel had been dancing around And nicely – Abel’s footwork was his specialty – but finally And was able to time his jab perfectly and shock his ribs. Besides, Abel was quite distracted this afternoon.  
“Oooohh…tsss…sorry,” And winced. Abel glared at him, but at least And looked genuinely sorry, rather than his normal sarcastic-ass self. Abel’s brow softened.  
“That’s alright, you had to do it.”  
“I know, I really did. You were leaving your left side so wide open it was almost insulting not too.”  
Ah. There it was.  
“Oh, hell no.” And laughed and Abel twirled his saber like a baton before sweeping it forward for a slice. And danced out of the way and brought his saber up in second position guard, two hands on the saber held about pelvic height, pointed up and away. Abel mirrored his guard and faked left, then right, then attacked left. Three quick strikes of metal on metal and they parted again.  
And twirled his saber around his wrist. Evidently, it was a designed distraction, for suddenly And was on Abel and he just managed to parry the blow to – of all places – his left rib cage. And smiled and Abel tried a slight swipe towards his shoulder. Quick as a snake, And wheeled his saber around and knocked Abel’s in the direction his was going, causing him to lose his balance. Abel could almost feel the sting, so he continued moving in the direction And shoved him, turning in a circle before meeting And’s final strike with a guard.  
“Ha!” And laughed as they pulled apart again. Abel was proud of himself for that one. And had tried the fourth movement they had been practicing – a backhanded parry and counterattack – but Abel simply countered with one of the guiding principles of Soresu: turning. The principle of ‘turning’ was easy in theory, but nebulous in application; you must turn your opponent’s offense into your own, fluid in your actions, never wasting a hair. So Abel allowed himself to follow where And had pushed him, falling off balance and twisting around instead of flailing and trying to stop the fall.  
And was nodding and smirking. “I see, I see what you did there.”  
“Really?” Abel asked innocently. “What’d I do?”  
“OK, you can play coy if you want, but I got my eye on you.” On the “you,” And force-jumped at Abel, swinging a downward strike, which Abel just managed to avoid by rolling out of the way.  
“Hey! Cheater!” Force moves like that were not part of the Soresu technique.  
“You do what you gotta do,” And said, resuming his attack. After several exchanges, Abel attempted the backhand parry, but he simply didn’t have the necessary skill and it lamely tapped And’s saber allowing him the opportunity for a final thrust.  
Abel sank down, reeling from the pain. It felt like something was lodged deep in his shoulder, grinding, cracking his very bones. Abel grasped it, rocking back and forth until it began to subside.  
And was shaking his head. That was three in a row so far today for And, while Abel hadn’t managed to land a strike. Still, Abel thought, he was satisfied with the progress he was making. I mean, it was And after all. He was much better than he.  
He admitted as much and And nodded solemnly. “Yes, you do have to take that into consideration.” They continued smack talking each other as they got set for another bout until Master Pit interrupted each other.  
“Initiate!” Abel dropped his guard and saw Master Pit storming at them. A couple other initiates looked over. Abel felt his face go red, but couldn’t think what she was finding such fault with.  
“Initiate, did I hear you discussing with Initiate Kino here,” she paused, indicating to And. She looked rather ruffled. “That you were satisfied with your performance?”  
Abel frowned. Was he not supposed to be? “I did say that.” She stared at him. “Yes, I am…or thought I was.”  
“Tell me, do you enjoy the feeling that these sabers inflict?” Abel turned even redder and heard Tiloa bark, then stifle her giggles.  
“No. I definitely do not.”  
“I would think that would be enough inspiration for you to occasionally win your bouts. Or if that is not enough, maybe the fact that your friend here has completely dominated you.”  
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Abel said. “I actually got in quite a few –”  
“You lost. Three times. Does it matter if you twirled into position once?” So she had seen that. Abel was at a loss. When he had practiced sports back on Earth, the coaches were usually less concerned with the outcomes of games or points, and more concerned with how he was mastering a certain technique. At least, in practice.  
“When we are going through the forms, yes,” Master Pit answered. “But your bouts should be treated seriously. How do you expect to emerge alive from a true battle when you do not do so here? While Initiate Kino may have used a move more suited to the Ataru style, he at least succeeded. I expect the same effort from you.” She walked away and the rest of the class returned to their own bouts.  
“Eesh,” And grumbled. “What’s up her butt today?”  
Abel’s face was bright red. Why did she have to single him out? But of course, she couldn’t have known why he was so distracted. He made eye contact with Kyrana across the way who nodded at him. He held up his saber.  
A few minutes later, he was back on the ground with electricity coursing through his ribs.  
.  
They packed up as lightning crackled ominously in the sky. The air was still dry, but this was the first hint that the rains that usually poured over the Tython Temple this time of year were finally coming. They were unusually late this year.  
Tiloa caught up with And and Abel as they were leaving. Abel noticed Tiloa’s partner, Lena, still on the ground.  
“What happened to her?”  
“Oh,” Tiloa said with a sour look. “Our last bout was particularly tough, but I still got her in the end. She only got me twice today.”  
Tiloa winked, but Abel groaned inwardly. She hadn’t experienced his ten or so ventures of pain. At least he did get And twice, too. So, he thought, same as Lena.  
“She’s probably still on the ground more out of shame,” Tiloa said. “She’s slipped in the rankings. And’s only a couple points out and I’m right behind.”   
They kept talking about them while Abel tuned out. He thought the whole thing was stupid. Rankings? Shouldn’t wise Jedi know that they would only breed competition and contempt? It wasn’t just that he was second-to-last (he had passed Lev some months ago). He didn’t like what it did to people.  
“So,” Tiloa said, turning to Abel. “You’re coming tonight?”  
He had completely forgotten. Today was the last day of regular classes before they began preparing for their final Initiate Trials. Unlike the Jedi Trials which granted them the rank of a full Jedi Knight, the Initiate Trials were a series of tests designed not to pass or fail, but as a demonstration to prospective masters to adopt them as padawans. Their class would then spend the next month studying and preparing for these trials. Tonight, Tiloa was throwing the whole class an end-of-class party at her cabin, the most spacious of the student cabins.  
“Ye-es, of course I’ll be there.”  
“Hmm,” she said, frowning. “I can sense you are ill-at-ease. Did you forget?”  
“No, c’mon, no. Well yes…a bit.” He had always planned on being there, ever since Tiloa brought it up two months ago, but he had just forgotten that morning. He usually spent the evenings after combat with Lev and Kyrana. But of course they would be at Tiloa’s tonight too.  
Before Abel could ask, Zek beat him to the punch. “Is Lena coming?”  
Tiloa rolled her eyes. “Yes, you would wonder. At least, she was invited.”  
“She may just come to confiscate the Nectarwine,” And said.  
Tiloa scowled.  
.  
Five hours later, the sun had set and night had fallen over the forest, but flashing lights and music blared out of one cabin in the woods. Outside the wind was picking up, tossing leaves through the air and the clouds were gathering dark.  
Abel couldn’t help but chuckle over the rim of his glass as he surveyed the party before him. It reminded him of a middle school party, an imitation of something seen once, perhaps in a movie, with everyone put in a role they didn’t really know how to play. Most of these initiates had been here since they were young children and though they went back to their families on vacations, they had never really experienced the normal life of a teenager. That is, assuming the galaxy operated like 21st century America. Which it actually did to a surprising degree.   
The music that played overhead was from a playlist Tiloa had found (not made). She kept encouraging everyone to dance, but nobody really wanted to, and when they did, they looked like swaying dopes. Most of them were doing what Abel was doing: nursing their drink on the outskirts of the room, chatting in small groups.  
Abel found himself sitting next to Kyrana and Odo, making the three of them three of the worst conversationalists of the class (besides Lev). After a minute or so of awkward silence punctuated by the grumbles from the sky outside, Abel couldn’t stand it much longer.  
“So…Odo, how are you feeling about the trials?” It was a lame question.  
“Adequate. I will be prepared by the first day.” His voice was low and gravely with the choppy precise cadence of a robot. His orange eyes swiveled towards Abel.  
“I must be prepared. Duros do not take liberties with their studies like you humans do.”  
Oh yes, see, this is why I don’t talk to you very much, Abel thought.  
Kyrana edged into the conversation. “I always thought Duros were more…carefree.”  
Odo hissed. “A select few of us have made it their business to gallivant across the galaxy like hobos. They do little to help our cause.”  
“Your cause?” Abel didn’t really know much about Duro culture.  
Odo clammed up, but after a few seconds, reluctantly continued. “It is not proper conversation. But every Duro knows the stain that the Nemoidians have left upon their father people.”  
Abel nodded politely. He did know the basic outline of that relationship. Duros had colonized the planet Nemoidia centuries ago, resulting in a divergent species, Nemoidians, who were renowned throughout the galaxy for their avarice and cunning.   
“In their greed they came back to their father planet not as allies but as conquerors. They stole our spirit. Ever since, the Duro people have become a shell of our selves. We are a people dying. This is why you see so many Duros who have left; they feel no pride and have no shame for their desertion.”  
But Kyrana, like Abel, didn’t really understand. “I do not see a problem. Your people are successful, respected. You have seen no war, yet my people…many of them still starve or are sold as slaves. You do not know tragedy.”  
Abel looked at Kyrana who was shaking with anger. He didn’t know.  
“I didn’t know things were so bad on Ryloth.” She looked at Abel.  
“Ryloth? No, not according to our ‘Union.’ A useless government, handpicked not be its citizens but by its shareholders.”  
“No,” Odo interrupted, “your people’s problems are like many in the galaxy. You never grew past your dependence on farming and your people refuse to take responsibility for their own protection. My people are perpetually kept down not from our laziness, but from the eternal struggle with the Nemoidian betrayers. We are unique in this.”  
“It is not just on Ryloth. You would never know, you are probably one of them, but Twi’leks everywhere –”  
They would not doubt have continued to argue until the Force got involved but suddenly there was a gathering rumble, a revving crackle and a deep boom. The flash of light was blinding. But when they looked outside, a faint red glow was pulsing. A fire had started deep in the Tython woods.  
Tiloa quickly called the temple to report, but they assured her it was too far away and if the fire did creep too close, they would deal with it.  
Off in the distance the fire grew until a whole hillside was burning. Except for an occasional murmur, the ten classmates were glued to the windows. The light from the far-off fire bathed their room in a faint orange and Abel couldn’t help but think of a fireplace on a winter’s night. He could almost imagine he heard the crackles. But he shook his head. The monster, though far away from them, was reeking terror throughout the forest. Tragedy on the earth can seem like beauty to those in the clouds.  
Kyrana stalked off to the kitchen, which, unlike in Abel’s cabin, was its own room. Abel followed. He had expected to find her filling her cup to the brim, but instead she was washing it clean. She saw him looking and smirked.  
“I think I have had enough tonight.”  
Abel shrugged. “To each her own.”  
“Hmm.” She grabbed a towel and dried her cup. “Still, I should not have yelled at Odo. That was…ill-done.” She set her clean cup back into the cabinet with a thunk. She continued to stare out the window at the fire light.  
Abel wanted to ask her what she had meant about her people, but he didn’t know how to ask politely. So he stayed silent.  
“Have you heard any news of your youngling?” Kyrana asked abruptly.  
“Oh,” Abel fidgeted, “yeah, he’s perfectly fine. Master Prada took him to the medic and he said Jomar should be right as rain by tomorrow.”  
Another thunderclap sounded outside, causing Abel to jump, but Kyrana stood still in thought.  
“I still do not understand why Eera did not alert you sooner. She can see heat, can she not?”  
Abel hesitated. “Yes…but I think it is hard to see when he is so far under water and rock. And when he did not appear, she probably froze.”  
“Hmm,” Kyrana said, tilting her head, “not the best response.”  
“But an understandable one for a youngling.”  
“I do not really know if she counts as a youngling,” Kyrana cautioned. “After all, she is only perhaps a year or two younger than me.”  
“But you’re practically the baby of our group,” Abel joked.  
“Oh really?” Kyrana said slyly. She crossed her arms and stared at Abel. “I don’t think you really want to go there.” She tried to look serious, but once Abel started laughing, she couldn’t help herself and laughed into her hands.  
“By the way,” Abel interrupted, “what was all that by the lake about the namiko?”  
Kyrana waved him off. “It was nothing. A silly game.” She wouldn’t meet his eye.  
“What sort of game?”  
She smiled, looking out the window, then sighed. “It is nothing to bother about, Abel. We were only having fun at your expense. Only…” Abel continued to stare at her, and she rolled her eyes. “We had heard that humans found the scent intoxicating. We wanted to see if it was true.”  
“Oh.”  
She seemed about to let it go, but then her eyes fell upon a cup of nectarwine on the kitchen table. She glanced curiously at Abel.  
“You did say the flower smelled like wine. Does it smell like this?” She picked up the cup and smelled it. She took a long sniff. She shrugged. “I don’t get it.”  
She held the wine out to Abel, her two hands enveloping the cup like an offering.  
Abel took the cup. He looked over the deep red wine at Kyrana’s face and sniffed.  
It had the tangy scent of namiko, the scent that got stuck in your nostrils and pulled at your mind. He said so to Kyrana.  
“But it has none of namiko’s freshness.”  
Kyrana nodded. “This is true. Beautiful flowers always smell fresh.”  
“What flowers?” Lev waddled into the kitchen.  
Abel and Kyrana looked at each other and burst out laughing  
“Nothing, Lev” Abel answered. “We were being silly.”  
Lev had clearly felt abandoned by his only two friends. So they went with him back to the party.  
.  
The party had faded. The music was abandoned, shouts were cut off, drinks were sipped instead of chugged, and they all sat listening to the beating silence. In an effort to renew the vigor, Tiloa started asking people to tell stories.  
She asked if anyone had a secret they had never shared. And said that once when he was twelve, he snuck into Master Yul’s personal room, just to prove it. Tiloa announced her crush on Nobe Grinspar, a newly made Jedi Knight.  
“Let’s hope he’s not in need of a new apprentice or else things could get a little awkward,” And commented. Tiloa’s eye twinkled.  
Zek revealed he had actually successfully cheated on a couple tests a few years ago. While most in the class asked how he did it, Lena sniffed haughtily.  
“Just remember everyone; these words don’t leave the cabin. Initiate pledge,” Tiloa said, mockingly holding up her hand.  
Like Tiloa, Kay had a romantic confession. “Yeah, I know you two know this, but I kissed I guy back at home on Coruscant a year ago. It didn’t work out though,” he said. It’s a little hard maintaining a long term relationship while at the Jedi temple.  
Abel couldn’t get over how middle school it all was.  
They continued talking in this vein for a while as the night lengthened, the wine flowed and the fire burned. Their voices became hushed and husky and several of them shook talking of such things. Their whole life had been spent in school. Their only real friends were the ones sitting in this room. It was as if they were blind, feeling their way through a house together they had never seen but had been inhabiting for years. Only through their combined observations could they come to glimpse it.  
Yes, they had read things, mostly on their own, and seen things too, but that wasn’t the same as understanding them. Humans, Twi’leks and Togrutas all worked in similar ways, and when And brought this up in contrast to his own, Abel, Kay, Lena, Tiloa, Kyrana and Puli all blushed. Puli was a Tholothian, making her a subspecies of human. Abel asked what that meant, but, meeting her eyes, he tried to seem only interested in the scientific description she was giving. Abel figured that he himself was in a similar state as Puli; a “near-human” as they called it. For Lena, Kay and the other “humans” of the galaxy, though a rainbow of colors, all had similar features that seemed slightly alien to Abel, like a slimmer facial proportion and a slightly iridescent skin.  
The orange glow still flickered through the room when they began to uncover things they never knew they didn’t know. Lena’s face like the flames outside soon flickered out the door, leaving the scent of namiko to waft in from the outside. Delicate as a stem, the flower yet sprung, Kyrana sat erect, but shifted, sifting through the scene, passing to a room unseen. Drifting, Abel thought the night was like being in water, where even his vision rippled and waved. He lay down in dreams to the sounds of whispering delight and the crackling light of the fire outside.  
In the morning, Kyrana looked to the western world. The sun had not yet risen, but light graced her face in the early dusky dawn.  
“The fire is out. Look, the rain has come.” Abel looked and indeed it had. The rain had put it out.


	9. Weak Force

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> I know this has nothing to do with this story, but Allez les bleus! Vive le France!  
> .  
> Pronunciation Guide:  
> .  
> New Concept/Word  
> The Cerean writer and trees  
> .

Chapter 9: Weak Force  
.  
Everyone threw themselves into preparing for the final trials and had little time for feelings. Each student was left to their own devices when it came to preparing. Teachers were always willing to meet with their students during their time off and Abel often sought them at these times for extra help. Even after two years, he still felt his education riddled with cracks. Others like Zek and Odo preferred studying alone. Zek talked about waking up just after dawn and studying late into the night with only occasional breaks for food and to go to the bathroom. Abel didn’t think this was healthy and told Zek so.  
“On the contrary,” Zek said, “it is wonderful preparation for my future. I expect I will have to work similar hours on occasion.” Abel didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do, but he knew it wasn’t whatever Zek was hoping for.”  
Then there were And and Tiloa who preferred the “let it be” method.  
“Look, I already know what I know. I don’t think killing myself for the next month will make much of a difference.” Tiloa agreed.  
The three of them were sitting by Tiloa’s cabin. Abel had his desk propped up on his legs, reading over several articles on the Mandalorian Wars that the others knew like the back of their hands. Tiloa had just finished exercising – Force jumping and pushing around the woods – and was reclining on the porch, letting her sweat evaporate. And was lying on a u-shaped root of a tree, levitating a tree branch.  
“That’s because you’re not a masochist like me,” Zek called from inside, and And let out a barking laugh. Zek still had “mounds of work to do,” but he let them convince him to at least get some fresh air…by opening up the windows.  
But surprisingly, Zek followed his own voice out the door.  
“Oho! And the mynock emerges from his cave!” And called.  
“Mm, I thought I might get some movement in. You up for another go, Tiloa?”  
“You’re not really my type…” And and Abel snickered as Zek scowled. “No, I’m done for the day. Take Abel though, he needs a walk.”  
Actually, Abel had been ready to volunteer anyways. Zek was an easy person to be with one-on-one; perfectly willing to engage in conversation or not depending on the situation. Abel put down his desk, shrugged off his robe and started jogging with Zek.  
After only a few minutes, Abel called a halt. Man, he was out of shape.  
“If you hadn’t stopped I would have soon. I’m dying,” Zek wheezed. At least it’s not just me. They took a few sips of water from their belts.  
The forest here was getting thick with vegetation. It was a far cry from the beautiful halls of Nak’s tended forests up north. Here the colors were thick with grayish brown and green.  
“It sure is pretty here,” Zek said calmly. Abel looked at Zek. He often became what Zek called “melancholy” but Abel called “poetic.”  
“Is it pretty on Cerea?”  
“Yes, very much so,” Zek acknowledged of his home planet. “My father was a Council official, in charge of overseeing economic practices in the sectors of Cerea. That’s why we often moved around a lot; it was because of his job. But I got to see a lot of my planet…in my early years.”  
“You came here when you were ten, right?”  
“Yes. Maybe that’s why I remember my planet being so pretty. Everything seems pretty in your memories of childhood.”  
They broke off, thinking of their own planets far away.  
“It reminds me,” Zek started, “of a Cerean writer. He compared life’s memories to the flowering buds of trees. He wrote how we are the trunk, the center, our memory the branches which spiral out in a web, and our happy moments are those blossoms; they are always at the edges, and bloom so infrequently, and are so delicate that only a week passes and the winds carry them away. Of course, the Cerean trees to which he is referring only blossom on the very edges of branches and are far away from the trunk, and the blossoms bloom as many as twenty times throughout the year but are gone in a matter of days. It makes more sense if you are a Cerean.”  
But Abel assured him the metaphor was apt for an Earthling too.  
“You really are a poet, aren’t you.”  
“Me? No,” Zek said laughing. “That’s not even poetry. The writer was merely trying to describe how we should live. He said that we should be a tree that is always in blossom, so much so that even the trunk blooms in color. This is the summation of his thousand page treatise. It’s for fun,” Zek adds, looking to the woods with a sigh. “I thought of it because the trees here don’t ever seem to blossom and it feels odd to me.”  
Abel agreed. Though the woods of Tython stood in sharp relief, as if in high definition, and hummed with tremendous energy, they were not colorful. But that allowed them a certain endurance, Abel thought. They could be green and gay in the sunlight, but gray and groaning in the night.  
The light was dimming as Zek and Abel started to head back. They had climbed a couple trees, lifted some rocks…you know, usual Jedi stuff.  
They stopped once more, this time for Zek to relieve himself. They had wandered into an area recently burned from the fire in the night. Abel started to prod a charred trunk that still had a couple hot embers when he thought he heard a thwacking sound off in the woods. He started off in that direction, wondering what someone would be doing there. It almost sounded like someone was cutting down a tree.  
As he neared the sound, he heard accompanying grunts and realized they must be the sounds of fighting. He assumed it was practice, but then he heard a cry and ran through the white bones of trees and dusty ash and stumbled onto the scene.  
Lena was mercilessly beating Lev with her steelsaber. Evidently, they had come here to train, but things had gotten out of hand. Lena looked like she was in a trance: her arms moved swiftly and precisely, but as if they were destined to move to each position; he face was devoid of emotion, a blank mask of total solemn serenity; a Jedi master would be proud. But she didn’t seem to realize that with each successful prod, Lev was hit again and again and was staggering under the onslaught. He was a pitiful creature, a giant of an Ortolan stung over and over, pleading, weeping for mercy. But just as Abel was going to cry out, Lev suddenly shivered and his eyes grew dark.  
He began to sing. The notes and utterances were staccato and trembling, pouring out like a swift running river. The light of the sun seemed to dim over the forest of ash and bone. Then Lena stopped. Her saber fell and her trance broke. Her eyes bulged and her lip quivered. She began to back away. But then she stopped and raised her hand to her head. Then her hand started for her neck. And Abel realized what was happening.  
Lena stared at her own hand in fear. Her breaths were so fast she couldn’t even manage a scream. Her fingers curled around her throat.  
Abel shouted, coming forward.  
“Lev, stop your singing! Levenbro!”  
At the sound of his full name, Lev started to blink and the singing faded away. Light came into the woods again. Lena slumped to the ground, hyperventilating, and touched pieces of burned and broken wood, trying to grab onto something.  
Abel didn’t know what to do, but suddenly Zek burst through the trees. He saw Lev and Lena in complete disarray, lying on the ground in shock.  
“What happened?”  
All Abel could manage was: “Fetch a master.”  
.  
It was evening. Lev and Lena had been rushed to the Temple where the masters awaited to hear their sides of the story. Abel and Zek came along as well as witnesses, along with their entire class who came to watch, having been told by Zek. They met in the sitting room.  
It was an odd room. It was circular like most of the rooms in the Temple, but otherwise it was different. Comfortable couches laid about the room in various groups and angles, while plants sat and hung about. The floor was carpeted. The room was specifically built to cater to outsiders who came to the Temple, so it was modeled on comfort.  
Lena spoke first. She said how she called on several of her classmates to practice dueling, but they refused until Lev agreed. They went into the woods to practice, deeper than normal, because Lev requested it to avoid others watching him. After several minutes of fighting, Lena tried to impart her skills to Lev, but he was unreceptive. She became frustrated, but agreed to simply hone her own skills. She focused her energies and began to channel the light side of the Force, which guided her own movements. She had done this before, she said. The next thing she knew, Lev was singing and the woods became dark. She felt a pounding in her head then she realized she couldn’t move. The next thing she knew, her own hand was moving to choke her own neck. That’s when she heard a shout and everything stopped.  
Master Prada nodded politely. He was the master that Zek had found, and he in turn reached Master Yul, the other master listening to Lena’s story.  
Also listening to Lena’s story from across the room, the classmates whispered between themselves.  
“Oh, come on,” Kay whispered. “Who’s gonna believe Lev’s channeling the dark side?” That was certainly what Lena was implying.  
“She’s probably making it all up,” Tiloa spat. Abel felt obligated to interject.  
“Not entirely…” Abel didn’t know how much to say. He wanted to protect Lev, but it did look bad. Even so, his friends didn’t seem convinced.  
“What, you think Lev did channel the dark side?” Kay snorted. Kyrana, who had been sitting rigidly, glared at Kay.  
But at that moment, the masters turned to Lev for his side of the story.  
The plot details were similar. Lena had asked him to train that day, but as he remembered, it was Lena who suggested going deeper into the forest. They began to train, with sticks at first, and Lev did so poorly that he requested they stop. He wasn’t learning anything. Lena tried to teach him, but she soon gave up because he couldn’t get it right away. She became frustrated and suggested they use the steelsabers. She insisted and he reluctantly agreed. Then she began to attack him mercilessly, and though he tried to get her to stop, she refused to yield. After the first twenty shocks he began to lose consciousness. He remembered seeing before him a cloaked figure attacking him with a red lightsaber, but he could do nothing to stop it. It felt like a dream. The next thing he knew, Abel was running towards them and Lena was slumped on the ground.  
“Hm. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lev were making up that bit about the cloaked figure, making it seem like Lena was the one using the dark side,” Zek said thoughtfully. “Either way, it still seems that he is shrouded in shadow.” Privately, Abel agreed with him.  
“You do not know.” Kyrana’s venomous interjection left them speechless. She had been whispering with Lev as they waited for the masters. “He does not lie.”  
“You only know what he told you,” And said, and Kyrana turned her eye on him, color rising to her cheeks.  
“I believe him,” Kay said. Kyrana turned to him gratefully. “Obviously. It’s right up Lena’s alley. She invites him there so she can bully him – remember how much she’s been failing recently – then she creates this story about Lev singing to cover up the fact that in her rage she became a Sith.”  
“Ah – O.K., Kay,” And said, with his hands up, “I don’t think you ‘become a Sith’ when you channel the dark side.”  
“Whatever, you know what I mean.”  
“He’s kind of right, though,” Tiloa said. “It’s the horseshoe theory. She’s such a light side zealot that she becomes like a Sith.”  
“Abel, didn’t you say that Lena looked possessed?” Kay asked him. Abel started to equivocate, but Kay cut him off. “Exactly. She says she’s channeling the light side, and you and Lev seem to say she’s channeling the dark side. It’s all meaningless. What matters is that she purposefully lost control of herself and inflicted pain. ‘Oh no, it wasn’t me it was the Force…’ Bulls**t! It was her and her alone. And if she did go into some altered state, she shouldn’t be doing it if she can’t control it. Exactly, Tiloa: horseshoe.” At that Kay put up his hands and walked away muttering.  
As he paced, And continued the conversation. “I don’t know, it seems pretty clear to me that they were both doing some shady things.” Looking to Abel, he said: “At least you’ll be able to nail Lena –”  
“What do you mean ‘both of them?’” Kyrana interrupted. Her eyes burned and her normally controlled voice was quivering high. “Lev did nothing wrong.”  
And held up his hands, and Abel started to shrug. “To me, it definitely seemed –”  
But Kyrana grabbed his arm and brought him away from the others. She looked over his shoulders toward Lev, then focused on Abel.  
“You can’t say anything against Levenbro.” She studied him seriously. Abel opened his mouth.  
“I…I mean, I have to say what I saw. And it seemed –” Kyrana shook her head frantically.  
“No, don’t you see? He’s already… He’s the perfect scapegoat. They” – she nodded towards And, Tiloa and Kay – “don’t care about him, they just care about screwing Lena. He doesn’t have…support, even the teachers don’t think… If they think he has dark tendencies –” She broke off in a huff and blinked several times, looking at Levenbro slumped in a chair as the masters talked patiently with him.  
“You love him,” Abel stated warmly.  
She nodded. “He is my friend. I thought he was yours, as well.”  
“Abel,” Master Prada called. “May we speak with you?” Abel turned to go, but Kyrana grasped his arm.  
“I stick by my friends, Abel. It’s the only thing.” Then she let him go. As he waded through the couches, he caught the eyes of his other friends. And was smirking and he thought Tiloa mouthed ‘Get it;’ Kay was looking beyond him at Lena, trying not to smile. He looked righteous.  
“Abel,” Master Prada began as Abel drew near, “can you illuminate this mystery? What did you see?”  
He was about to tell how Lena was dominating Lev in a grotesque way, but then he faltered. If he began to describe that, he would undoubtedly have been looking when the singing started. And what could he say? He had certainly seen Lev’s mouth moving as the singing began, and besides, he knew what Lev could do: he had seen it in the forest that day when he called the animals. He looked to his friends, clamoring for justice as they would call it, revenge as Abel saw it. All he had to do was describe what he saw, Lena bullying, Lena in a trance, a darkening forest…all true, and all would point to her. But he saw Lena, saw her sitting there legs stuck together and bent daintily like a doll; her hair hung loose and frayed. He didn’t have it in his heart to lie against her, not even when it was she that was the cause of all his misery after Bothawui. But could he lie for Lev? He looked equally pitiable, slumped in a chair, all hope of a reprieve surrendered. Kyrana looked on with a clean gaze, stoic; but even then, Abel could detect the hope in her eyes, hope that he would lie to save a friend. Save him from what? But he knew her fear. Lev was an oddball, a loner, and if the teachers believed him capable of what Abel saw, they might well expel him. And even if they didn’t, he would be forever marked, forever treated with care, like he might explode at any moment with evil. Abel couldn’t be the cause of that, he knew, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t betray his friend in such a way. But neither could he lie in the way his friends wanted him to. He suddenly welled up with pity for Lena. She was as much an outsider as Lev, perhaps even more so. She had experienced a modicum of friendship in her earlier days here, but as she grew with the Force, so her friends left her and she drew inward. It was the horseshoe all over again, but Lev and Lena were the ends that curved back and met again. But still opposing. It had been terrifying, thinking that each had moments where they could have destroyed each other, but must he now condemn them both? For that is surely what his testimony would show, guilt on both sides. In truth, he didn’t believe either guilty of a crime. But his opinion would matter little in the face of his facts. He realized he didn’t want this burden. He wanted to leave.  
“Abel?” Master Yul prompted. He looked at Abel softly. He knows, Abel thought, he knows I am struggling to craft a narrative.  
Abel looked back once more at his friends, at Kyrana’s hope-held eyes, and he burned with shame.  
“I don’t know. I didn’t see much. I…I heard ringing of metal and shouting and I came to investigate. When I arrived, Lena and Lev were locked in combat, but they fell away at my call. I cannot say anything.”  
Abel bowed his head. He was racked with shaking.  
When he looked up, Master Yul was looking with such concern at him he felt so guilty he almost confessed to everything. He suddenly realized how odd the entire situation before him was. Here were two great Jedi questioning students in a sitting room – with their classmates looking on – about grave matters of the dark and the light. He realized that this wasn’t a matter of discipline; the masters weren’t acting as guardians of the school, but as concerned…parents. They had not insisted that their classmates leave because they themselves were too shaken. They were worried, not angry; worried that a shadow may have fallen on one or two of their children. Lena and Lev weren’t to be punished, they would be helped. And Abel had prevented that, instead throwing them into more darkness. But it was too late, for Master Yul spoke, loud enough for the others to hear.  
“A shadow dwells here, but we think not in our students hearts.” He smiled kindly the three of them. “Something transpired that we cannot comprehend, and each remembers his own differently. Go; sleep tonight. We will think on this more. I hope –” They had turned to go, but Master Yul continued. “I hope that you will treat each other kindly. Feelings often flare in trying times as these. But remember that these are your fellow Jedi and deserve your care. And your trust.” With that Masters Yul and Prada went away, conferring with each other, while the students slouched back toward their dormitories.  
Abel could see Kay shaking his head, while And and Tiloa refused to make eye contact. Lena turned to Abel and seemed about to speak. She had an odd look on her face, torn between gratitude and scorn. She settled on a quick nod, then sped-walked to the dorms.  
Abel fell into step with Lev and like Lena, tried to speak. “Lev…I’m sorry…”  
Lev shrugged. “You didn’t see anything. I understand.” Abel nodded, more for his own sake.  
“You know, if there was any way I could have defended you…” But Lev just nodded.   
Then he stopped, and placing his squishy hand on Abel’s arm, said: “You tried. You’re a good friend.” A smile flickered then died. Lev left Abel standing there and walked to Kyrana who gently took his hand in hers. She grasped his shoulder then leaned in, hugging him. He broke the hug and moped forward to seek the solace of his lonely room.  
Abel started walking, but no sooner had he started than he was thrown back against the wall. He thought he had been force-pushed, but he felt a forearm jab into his windpipe. Kyrana was nearly foaming at the mouth as she spat her words at him.  
“You saw nothing? Lies!” She pushed him again against the wall. Abel huffed in pain as his head banged. “You had it in your power to pardon him, yet you say nothing.” Another jolt. “Now he’s branded as a Sith, you – you –” One last jolt then she released him. Abel fell to the ground clutching his neck.  
“Wha – what the hell?”  
“You faithless friend!” There were no tears on Kyrana’s face, only anger.  
“What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t lie, I did see him singing, bringing darkness…”  
She laughed mirthlessly. “Lie? You said you saw nothing. You’re already a liar, but you’re a coward and a betrayer too!”  
“Maybe I’m a coward, but I did not betray him.”  
“Yes you did.” She quieted. Her soft voice was even scarier than her screams. It shook with emotion. “You betrayed him from the moment you met him. You were never his friend. He was just a stepping stone, someone you could use because you felt oh so out-of-place. The new kid finds the weird kid and makes friends. Great! Then you abandon him for your new friends, but only come back to him when you feel like it.”  
Abel tried to think. Did he do that? He didn’t know.  
“Yes, you see? You don’t care about what happens to him, really. You just spin your wheels, la-la, and once you’re done here, at this wonderful academy, are you going to call on him in his small house? Hmm?” Kyrana was pacing back and forth, letting all her feelings she had harbored toward Abel for two years. “No, by then you’ll be on some grand adventure and have no time for him. I am there every time he feels lonely, I am there every time he wants to quit, I am there, at dinnertime or on off-day walks in the woods, I am there every time your friends ridicule or exclude him... And every time you play the middle ground. Even tonight, you refuse to pick a side, you refuse to back your friend.”  
“I…I couldn’t…”  
“I would at least have respected you if you told the truth,” Kyrana said finally. “At least that would have meant something. But this…” She clenched her fists, intent on rolling on another tirade, but then she blew out a puff of breath and released the tension. She threw up her hands and started to walk away. But then she couldn’t resist one last word.  
“I stand with my friends. You stand for yourself. That is a difference I cannot reconcile.” Then she walked away.


	10. The Final Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> .  
> Pronunciation Guide:  
> .  
> New Concept/Word  
> The willow trees on Tython  
> .

Chapter 10: The Final Begins  
.  
The sun was setting on Abel’s time at the Jedi Academy. Soon – hopefully – he would become a padawan, an apprentice to a Jedi master.   
What had he accomplished here? Well, quite a lot. He learned how to connect with the Force and harness it to move things with his mind, leap great distances, heal things… He learned about the galaxy and its myriad of peoples. He learned how to calculate faster-than-light travel and how to maintain his own ship (his own spaceship!). He made friends out of aliens.  
But those ties were strained. After he refused to speak, the others treated him coolly. They still invited him, but he could tell that there was a gap there that hadn’t been before. And of course Kyrana wasn’t talking to him. Ironically, it was Lev who seemed most at ease with Abel, and so he often met with Lev in the temple library late in the afternoon to go over empirics and culture.  
These should have been the last burst of light of the halcyon days. Yes, they had to prepare themselves for their trials, but they had more free time now than they had during classes. Most of their days were spent lounging or playing. But Abel felt the veil being dragged across. It was a grayer world than before.  
Abel loped across the northern fields. This patch of field was lying fallow, growing with wild grasses to return nutrients for a future crop. Seized by an impulse, he sat down and laid back, his head enveloped by the grasses.  
Tomorrow was the first test, empirics. He wasn’t confident, but he was as prepared as he was going to get.   
He reached down to finger some of the grasses. He had hoped to feel better by coming out here, but nothing had changed. The grasses were warm, though.  
He felt a slight pulse from the ground. He felt it with the Force. Sitting up, he turned behind him.  
“Ah, so ya sensed me, eh?” Nak said, limping over. “I guess your Force abilities have improved.” Abel started to get up, but Nak waved him down and joined him on the ground. “Ready for your tests?”  
“Mm, yeah,” Abel said shrugging.  
“Know what you wanna do afterwards?”  
Abel grunted. “Of course not.”  
“Well, you’ve got time to figure that out…” Nak paused, looking over at his pear trees that were just beginning to bear fruit. “You know, I didn’t start out as a farmer. I was one of them red path people.”  
Abel looked up, surprised. He couldn’t imagine Nak like Obi-Wan or Anakin, chasing assassins through the skies of Coruscant.  
“I was pretty good, too. I intervened in dispute on Mon Cala, likely stopping a war there. I got involved in a minor war in the outer rim. Killed a lot of people. Man, the things I could do with a lightsaber…” Nak laughed. “But then I got injured. Shot in the leg, blown clean off.” He lifted his left pant leg and tapped his shin. Metal. “I took some time off. Went to Ossus to recuperate. They were cooping me up inside all day and I kept looking out. Of course, that area of Ossus is crap, all swamp and what not, but even still, I kept looking at it like the promised land. Eventually, I convinced them to let me out. I even talked to one of the gardeners there and he showed me around. Pretty soon, I was spending all my time there. I loved it. So I told the council, ‘Nope, I’m not comin’ back, I’m stayin’ here.’ And that’s what I did. A few years later, I came here to Tython to head the farm production.”  
“Were you even able to return to your old position,” Abel asked. “Because of your limp?”  
“My limp?! What limp?” Nak brayed. “This limp is ‘cause I’m old, not because of my leg. In fact, it’s the other leg that giving me the problems.” Nak banged his hand on his right leg. “Damn thing. No, I was as fit as a reek. Had to be. It’s hard work, let me tell ya. I’ve got more droids helping out now, and, of course, misbehavin’ students when I can get ‘em.” Nak smiled knowingly. “I didn’t fall into it. I discovered it, and realized that was my path.”  
“It’s not the end of my path I’m worried about,” Abel confessed. “It the rocky ground I’m on now.”  
“Ahh well, you just keep moving your feet and you’ll find smoother turf.”  
“But what if you’re the cause of your own rocks?”  
At that, Nak guffawed, letting out a bellowing laugh that echoed across the plain. “Well, that’s the simplest of all. Stop making rocks! You kids always find ways to make your lives harder than they need to be. Tell me, what is the first thing they always tell you about the Force?”  
Without hesitation, Abel answered, “It connects us.”  
“Yes. So do not fight the Force. Flow with it. Connect.” Nak continued shaking his head and began to get up. Abel stood up with him. Nak took one last look at the growing things around them.  
“I had to learn that to. For me, it was connecting with my plants. I love them. I think for you, it’s something else.” Nak patted him on the shoulder then, hefting his body, lumbered back to his shack.  
As he was getting ready to go, Abel looked down at his feet. There grew a flower of brightest orange. Abel didn’t know if he had missed it before. He lightly touched its petals. Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought the flower stood a little straighter to reach his fingertips. The petals felt like velvet, so soft they were. For a moment, Abel was tempted to pick it and carry it with him. But he decided against it, and left. Tomorrow was a big day and he needed sleep.  
.  
He was just grateful to get through it. The empirics exam contained over 200 questions and exercises, ranging from describing different planetary environmental zones to labeling genomes to actually constructing a functioning generator to good ol’ fashion math problems. Abel was the last one to finish, though he saw several others who looked like they were struggling too, so he didn’t feel too out of place.  
The next day was their culture exam. Abel felt he performed better on this one, and was reasonably pleased with his explanation on the roles of the Jedi in galactic politics and his analysis of a work by the famous Ithorian artist Mblakba Kwitzel. At one point, Master Kloop passed by during her pacing and, glancing at Abel’s desk, dropped a hint on the correct translation of a Zabrak word. Abel had looked up to thank her, but she pretended not to notice. Abel smiled to himself.  
The big question on all his classmates’ minds was the third and final exam. Apparently, they were to combine all the Force-related subjects into one test. Abel was just sitting down to eat after their culture exam as he heard Tiloa discussing it with And.  
She seemed convinced that they would be called one by one in front of all the masters and asked to perform different feats. Abel thought this seemed the most plausible choice and sank lower over his meal.  
Tiloa called over and asked for Abel’s opinion. He was sitting at the edge of the group, next to Puli. He thought that Tiloa called him more out of pity, and he distinctively saw Kay sniff and look away.  
He politely agreed, shrugging, and went back to his meal.  
And thought that was too typical, and thought it would be something out of the ordinary. They had tried asking those in the upper classes, of course, but they kept the lid tight on their finals.  
Puli nudged Abel and pointed. The others followed her gaze and there, entering the cafeteria, were the masters. In ones, twos and threes they filed in until Abel counted nearly thirty. He noticed Ma Fenn among them.  
“They must be the ones in need of a padawan,” Puli murmured.  
Yes, Abel thought, for it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Jedi master must be in want of a padawan. Abel laughed to himself and waved Puli away when she looked at him curiously. Then, looking at the masters, he laughed again. There was something innately humorous about a bunch of Jedi masters lining up for cafeteria food like a peck of chickens waiting to be tossed their seed by the farmer.  
“What are you laughing at?” Puli asked, starting to laugh herself. Abel made noises, but couldn’t explain. Soon the whole table was laughing as Abel spilled himself with blue milk.  
Looking up, Abel saw Kyrana passing by with her food. He caught her eye and tentatively smiled. But she stared coldly back, then looked away.  
Abel stopped laughing and went back to his food as Tiloa asked Kay about his answer to his last essay.  
.  
Today Abel decided to take the scenic tour. It was – hopefully – his last time going to the Temple as an initiate and he wanted to take his time. Instead of leaping over the waterfall as usual, he hiked up the slope from his cabin and met the fall at its source. He looked out across the valley, down to the towering Temple and its collection of buildings and flowering fountains; he even saw the occasional figure scurrying from here to there. Further on and slightly left, he saw the woods, patched with little hovels in the undergrowth, and down the slope he could make out bulky freighters, luxurious cruisers and sleek fighters, the starships of the visitors. Beyond them both, he saw the blackened mass that poisoned the forest, a gaping wound in a sea of life. And of course, looking down and to his right, Abel saw fields stretching for miles to the wood line. He could not smell it from here – he was upwind, saturated with the heavy smell of moist wood and the light scent of the carrying wind – but he could imagine it.  
Abel followed his nose, or at least the memory within in, and he slouched all the way down to the fields. But he stopped before it, standing on the ridge. Since ending his time here as a grower, he had still often come back: to study peacefully, to talk with Nak, but mostly to walk by such beautiful things. But it was only now, on this hill, that Abel realized that something had been missing and shading its beauty ever so slightly each new time he came, and that he knew what the difference was. So he turned away and walked down the hill.  
Instead of making a bee line for the Temple, he hugged the tree line, gazing into the dark depths. Two shires – hooved creatures with fleshy wings – munched on the undergrowth. One of them suddenly stiffened and sniffed, and, looking straight at Abel, galloped away, the other one following. Abel followed, too, at a run. He stayed out of the woods, but enjoyed running after them, pounding his feet harder and harder, running swifter than any human on his planet with the help of the Force. Each step was like a springboard, the very ground his friend. On seeing him keeping pace, one of the shires let out a bleat and stretched out its wings. The two shires rose out of the forest, beating their wings, and soared into the sky.  
Abel stopped running, looking up where they had disappeared into Tython’s heavenly mists. He was tempted to try and catch them even then, but he just smiled and shook his head. He turned to his left and walked to the Temple.  
He met the main path from the landing port to the Temple. Many times he had walked it, pushing up over rocks and roots. He rounded the bend with the big tree, its roots forming its own web of a hill, twisting its trunk into a bended shape of a bow. Abel touched its trunk as he passed under its branches which curled over the path like an archway. It was a curious tree, Abel had always thought. Most of the trees on Tython were towering, like the redwoods of California, but twice as wide. This tree was diminutive, like the height of any old deciduous tree. He passed by the curling bushes that framed the bend in the path and emerged into the morning sun and the Kelly green Field. The Temple was before him.  
.  
They met in the heart of the Temple. The ten initiates sat on the floor, silently waiting for the masters to begin. Before their other two exams, their nervousness played itself out as energy, with the classmates excitedly talking to take their minds off the impending exam. But today, in this hallowed hall, they sat squirming in themselves. Their nervous energy, unable to spill out, permeated the Force of the room so that Abel’s own nervousness was multiplied tenfold. It was uncomfortable to say the least.  
Finally Master Yul entered. He stooped to avoid the ceiling lining the border of the sanctuary then straightened up as he hobbled to the center, under the shadow of the ever-turning Ray. The murmuring of the waiting Jedi masters died as he prepared to speak.  
“Jedi,” he began, in his low, wheezy voice, “you will soon be taken to a place deep within the forests. Your objective is simple: to make it back to the Temple. You will receive no aid.” He paused to smile. “I believe that each and every one of you has what it takes to make it back. I have watched you grow to become the Jedi that you are today, and thus I call you Jedi even before you are made so.” Abel arched an eyebrow. This was much more sentimental than Master Yul’s normal talk. “Your classes on the Force – meditation, movement, mediation, combat – they were designed to hone these skills. But as a Jedi, these must become one; one relationship with the Force. You will not face pre-designed obstacles in the woods, just as you will not face clearly defined puzzles in the forests of the world. It is never clear, the path you take; it is only you who must make the choice, and you must make it over and over again.” The Ray, which rumbled behind Master Yul, suddenly appeared to Abel deep gray. “It is time now.”  
The masters rose and Master Kloop took charge, calling the initiates over to her. They followed her out the door and across the courtyard. They followed her across the lawn and passed the bend in the path and by the gnarled tree. They followed her down the rocky path and across the landing lawn and to a ship.  
It was happening so fast, Abel thought; but truly it had happened very slowly. This was the culmination of his time here, and he had the feeling that it was only partially a test of his classes.  
The ship had rows of seats, but no windows. Abel felt the ship shudder, then the familiar sinking of his stomach telling him they had lifted in the air. They were only flying for a matter of minutes before he felt the bump as they touched ground. They filed out one-by-one. They stood awkwardly, waiting for Master Kloop to come out to explain further. But she didn’t. Instead, the ship rose and shot away.  
The wind from the ship slowly died as the grass in the small clearing stopped its swaying. Two birds twittered by. Leaves in the branches shimmered. A far-off groaning echoed in the woods. They were alone.  
.  
“Welp…” And said, “now what?”  
Lena was quick to offer advice. “During the flight, I only felt a slight angle in the ship’s movement, so I think we’re generally west. Also, I counted the seconds – about 1100 – and figuring a normal cruising speed, I would guess we’re about 150 to 180 kilometers away.”  
Abel saw Odo nodding. Well, if they both agreed that was a good enough estimate for him.  
“So about four days, three in a hurry” Zek said. Lena concurred.  
“That is,” Tiloa cautioned, “if there isn’t any trouble.”  
“And there probably will be,” And sighed.  
“I don’t think so,” Lena said in a clipped tone. “We’ve been in these forests many times and I haven’t seen anything dangerous.”  
Abel looked darkly at his friends. “Mmm, I don’t know, Lena. I would imagine the woods near us are safer than out here.”  
“Well, of course we’ll be on our guard,” she huffed.  
“The bigger question,” And said, “is food and water. I don’t suppose anyone has anything with them.” They shook their heads. “There are probably plenty of edible plants in these woods and animals we could always find. But I don’t know about water.”  
“There are streams all over these woods,” Lena said, waving him away. “I’m sure we’ll find something soon enough. For now, though, we should get moving. There’s no reason to be standing around.” She marched straight on through the woods, heading east. They shrugged their shoulders and went on after her.  
.  
They had been weaving through the underbrush for hours and the sun was already high in the sky, beating down on them through the canopy above.  
“I think we’ll have to readjust our timetable at this rate,” And said as he pushed down another thick plant. “It’ll take an extra two days, maybe three.” The plant swung back to hit Abel in the face.  
“And!”  
“Oh. Sorry.” And didn’t even turn around, he was so weary. Abel tried to push the plant down again, but it slipped and hit him in the face again. Figures.  
But then Abel did a double-take. The plant seemed to turn as he passed by, as if it were watching him. Looking around him, the dappled forest seemed to mirror the action. Thousands of shafts of light illuminated the forest, but thousands of corners of darkness lingered there as well. And in these dark places Abel sensed a restlessness like a coiled snake. Were there animals watching them?  
“We are Jedi, right?” Tiloa yelled. She was at the back. “Why don’t a couple of us just force the plants out of the way, clearing a path, and we can take turns.”  
Abel saw Zek shrug and look thoughtful, but Abel answered quickly. “I don’t know. I think we want to keep our presence here quiet.”  
To his surprise, Lena agreed with him. “Abel’s right. Can you not sense it? There’s a darkness here.”  
“So what happened to that ‘there’s nothing dangerous in these woods’ nonsense you were saying before?”  
Lena turned and glared at Kay.  
“Well there has to be something we can do,” Puli said. “Just look at And.”  
Abel took a closer look at his classmate and he did seem in quite horrible shape. Usually he was so…on top of things.  
“Eh,” And shrugged, “I’m alright.”  
“No you’re not,” Tiloa said, walking to the head of the line. “Nautolans need lots of water. And’s dehydrated. We need to find water now.”   
Abel kicked himself. Of course, they were born in water and were practically amphibious. He didn’t even think of it.  
“Levenbro needs it, too,” Kyrana said, bringing up the rear. The Ortolan was practically dripping with sweat as Kyrana helped him over a log.   
Abel saw Lena sneer then sigh. “Well. What do we do?” They stood and thought, huffing and puffing away. Puli put her hands on her hips. And leaned back against a tree. Abel remembered something he read in a book once back home, and looked up. Somehow people always forget that, he remembered.  
“How about we broaden our horizons a little bit.”  
A couple minutes later, Abel was jumping from branch to branch up one of the great Tython trees. As he neared the top, the wind tore at the branches, tossing them left and right. At one point, Abel had to stop moving and ride out one particularly strong gust, gripping the branch with his hands and legs. He finally crested the canopy and looked out before him.  
The noontime sun bathed the scene in sparkling green which stretched out for miles in all directions. Looking east, he could see no clear signs of the temple, remembering that the terrain undulated with hills, obstructing his view. But he thought he could see the distant outline of mountains hidden in the low hanging clouds, which was a good sign, for there were mountains to the east of the temple.  
He looked around some more, keeping his eyes open for any break in the foliage to indicate a river or lake or…anything. Frustrated, he saw nothing but green. He was about to go down when something caught his eye. There! Over to the right…but no, it was just a rustling in the canopy. A flock of birds emerged and flew into the sky, perhaps scared off.  
Yep, there they go. Just like all the f– But his thoughts were cut short as he saw the birds dive down in formation off to his left and into a clear gap. A gap! And not two seconds later a female yulier gracefully soared out of the same gap. Yuliers could swim underwater as well as fly and were often found near such a source during summer, taking care of their new babies. And it was summer. Well, that was good enough for him.  
Abel practically skipped down the branches, paying no mind to the wind as he wound his way back into the oppressing still air of the forest. And telling the others of his hunch, they angled left with hope pressing them on.  
After only a short walk, they did indeed find a modest lake and at the far end, Zek spied a running stream entering the lake. Better to drink the running water, they reasoned, and made to round the lake.  
And, however, overjoyed to find water, dove straight into the lake. He finally came up again already halfway across and called jovially to his compatriots: “Come on, slowpokes!” He spit out a jet of water over fifty feet long, almost hitting them on the other side. He laughed and kept swimming.  
Once they had all had a drink, the next question came: how to store the water. They again checked each other, but found that no one had containers of any kind. Could they make one?  
It was And that thought of it. “Obviously,” he said, paddling over. He had gone back in the lake for a swim. “We’ve got to do the old split and mend mediation trick.” Abel remembered what And was referencing. Now so long ago, the lesson in which they had to mend the rock which Master Prada had broken.  
Abel glanced in trepidation at his other classmates. Abel had done it, though barely, and he didn’t think it was so exact that it could prevent leaks. Lev looked particularly disheartened.  
But everyone went around searching for appropriate sized rocks, which on Tython (thankfully) wasn’t too hard to do.  
“Won’t they be too heavy?” Puli asked. She was holding a rock as big as her head. “I don’t know how I feel lugging this for several days.”  
“It shouldn’t be too bad if you hollow most of it out,” Zek said. “Besides, you’ll want to hollow out as much as you can to fit as much water as you can.” Abel saw Kyrana frown then drop her rock and head back into the woods.  
Abel had already split his rock in two (an easy task) and was in the process of peeling away its insides when Kyrana came back with bundles of vines.  
“I assumed it would be easier if we didn’t have to carry these in our hands,” she said, and Abel understood. They could wrap their rock-bottles in vines and carry them like a purse, or maybe even a backpack.  
“Oh! Good idea, Kyrana,” Abel said. She didn’t acknowledge him.  
After an hour, most of them were putting their two halves back together again. Lena’s was already mended and wrapped in vines and she was sitting and huffing on a log. Abel had put his mostly back together, but there were several leaks, so he was continuing the process. Kyrana had taken Lev’s from him and was doing it herself as Lev looked on morosely. Abel saw Lena staring at them and shaking her head.  
By the time that all their bottles were completed, the sun was already starting to set.  
“How about we just stay here for tonight,” Kay suggested. “It makes more sense to stay by the lake and get a fresh start in the morning.”  
“I agree,” And said. Of course.  
“After all,” Puli said, “we’re not really on a time limit.” But Abel saw Tiloa exchange a look with Zek and Lena look wistfully to the east. Clearly, they disagreed.  
They had more helpings of the nuts and berries that lined the lakeshore and got ready to sleep.  
“Should someone keep watch?” Tiloa asked. Several of them shrugged.  
“I don’t know,” Abel said. “It might be more important that everyone gets a good sleep.”  
“But we probably shouldn’t sleep on the ground,” Zek said darkly. He may not have been on the adventure to get the crystals, but he knew about the creatures that roamed Tython forests at night.  
“Zek’s right,” And said. “We should try to sleep in the trees.”  
“We’ll fall out,” Lena said.  
“Not in the willows,” Puli said, pointing to the bushy trees by the lakeshore, their long branches swaying in the light breeze.  
Abel frowned. “Aren’t willows pretty weak?”  
“Not Tython willows,” Puli answered happily. They looked closer at the one nearby and Abel’s mouth fell open in shock. Underneath the calm façade, the inner branches of the tree formed a dense tangle, thicker than any bush he had ever seen.  
“The dense branches prevent grazing animals or other anything else from getting to the part of the trunk that’s still growing,” Puli explained. “If that were damaged, the tree would die. And thankfully for us, it’s summer, so the branches are covered with the velvety willow leaves. It should be a soft, snug bed.”  
Abel looked at her skeptically. “How do you know so much about this?”  
“Oh, you know,” she said, tilting her head this way and that, “I get out and about.”  
They spread out to different trees and Abel found one with Zek and And. Using the Force, they cleared a path through the dense branches and climbed through the hole.  
Settling down, Abel could feel the branches poking him in the butt and back, but the leaves did at least make it a passable cocoon. He heard the grunts of Zek and And getting into comfortable positions. Soon, movement ceased and all was quiet. Night had descended and the air was cool.  
“Zek? And? You still awake?”  
“What do you think?” came And’s sardonic reply.  
Abel was quiet for a second, then pressed on. “Well, what do you think? About all of this?”  
And sighed. “I don’t know. I think we’ve got to make it to the temple. Is that confusing?”  
“Do you think there’s, like, a time limit? Zek? Or even a race? Or competition?”  
Zek sighed. “Maybe. Tiloa and I were talking about that earlier. But even if there is, we probably shouldn’t worry about it. Just stick together and make it there in our own time.” But Zek didn’t sound completely convinced.  
“Or maybe…” And started and Abel heard a rustling as he moved to get a better position. “Zek should just stick with Lena. You were sticking quite close to her during our journey through the forest.” Abel and And snickered as Zek groaned.  
“I wouldn’t laugh so hard if I was you, Abel,” And said. “I saw Puli winking at you earlier.”  
Exasperated, Abel puffed, “What? Puli? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
And made a doubting noise, then they were quiet.  
“I’d settle for that from Kyrana. Not” – he said quickly – “like that. I just wish…that we could at least be friendly.”  
He heard Zek squirm, but no one said anything. Finally, And answered, “Well, you know Kyrana. When it comes to Lev, she’s very protective. And she’s one to hold a grudge.”  
“What about you guys?” Abel asked. “You’re not mad at me for that stuff are you?”  
And sniffed. “Mad? Why? You didn’t see anything. I mean, it would have been nice to nail Lena for something” – Zek squeaked with a ‘hey!’ – “but oh well.”  
“But Kay –”  
“Kay has his own thing with her that I don’t really get,” And said. “Something happened with them before you came, I don’t really know. But don’t worry about that. And don’t worry about Kyrana,” he added. “She has her things. You just got caught in the middle.”  
“We talked about it that night,” Zek said. “Tiloa, And and I. Obviously, you did the best you could. It seemed to us that you were caught in the middle of something, that you saw something but didn’t really know what to make of it. We won’t ask you,” Zek said quickly, for Abel had started to speak, “because it doesn’t really matter. Although, Tiloa does really want to know.” They snickered. “But we’re sorry if it seemed like we were pressuring you to say something. We didn’t mean to.”  
Abel was suddenly very glad for Zek. Tiloa and And could often overlook things, and he had a feeling that it was Zek, for all his logical and analytical ways of looking at the world, was really the one who made them see.  
“Well…thanks.” Zek grunted in reply. Several minutes went by and no one spoke. Soon, Abel could hear the even breathing of his friends.  
Abel laid his head back against the tangle of branches. He had a knot in his stomach as he thought over his inaction a month before. His thoughts turned over and over themselves, never leading anywhere. The thick web of branches above him twisted into such tight knots. He couldn’t even see the light of the stars above.  
.  
They set out again next morning as the sky was already blue with day. Lena had woken up at dawn and shook the tree until And barked at her and flicked his finger, apparently knocking her down with the Force. She stopped trying after that.  
Once everyone was up, they set off. There was no need to “break camp” because of course they had nothing to pack up. They did collect some nuts and put them in their pockets. Then they hopped over the small stream and continued on their way.  
Although the going was still slow, it felt lighter than the previous day. They felt like they had a plan, they had a source of water, they had done it all the day before…  
Really, Abel thought, it’s not that bad. It’s just another walk in the woods.  
Zip it! Another part of Abel’s mind shouted. That’s when we get into trouble.  
But, other self, we have water and food, we’re ten Force users, nothing’s going to attack us, the sun is shining…  
No! Things are lurking behind every corner! Don’t relax into a false sense of security, that’s always when bad things happen.  
Abel, taking his own advice, stretched out with his senses and his eyes for several minutes. Then he mentally shrugged. It’s fine. There’s no need to go all Gollum over this.  
He joined Zek and Abo’s conversation. They were talking about getting their own starships as Jedi and how they’d build them.  
“So, you’re planning on building your own ship?” Abel asked.  
“Of course,” Odo said drily. “That is, after all, where I plan to apply myself as a Jedi.”  
“Oh. Right. And you, too, Zek?”  
“Mmm…” Zek thought, “my field is more biology. I’d probably just rather rely on Odo’s advice.”  
“What, are you offering free ship vouchers?” Abel said jokingly.  
“I don’t know about these ‘vouchers,’” Odo answered. “But of course I’d build you a ship. That’s what I plan to do.” Abel didn’t really know how to answer. He had never spent much time with Odo, but was he offering to design a ship for him? Taishi Odo had never struck Abel as an especially generous person.  
As they continued walking and talking, the ground gradually sloped downward. The air became even more stagnant and soon they were all sweating profusely in the humidity.  
“Agh!” Tiloa shouted as she climbed up a short hill. “Can’t we do something about this heat?” She stopped to take off her shirt and tie it around her waist. Several others followed suit.   
Again, Lev was having trouble and stumbled to sit down on a log.  
Lena turned on him. “Can you please try to keep up?” She tried to say it nicely, but it came out haughty and Kyrana snapped.  
“He can go at the pace that he will go at. Orto is a cold planet. He is not used to such conditions.”  
“Yes he is,” Lena snapped back. “He has lived here for…several years and he should be used to Tython’s climate.”  
Kyrana sneered. “That is not how it works. Would you expect a Kel Dor to remove her mask just because she lived here ‘for several years?’”  
“Drop it, girls,” Abel said. Lena looked at him, then faced away. Kyrana, on the other hand, continued to glare at Lena. Then, looking towards Abel not at him, she whispered, “You do not tell me what to do.”  
Abel bit back a retort as Kyrana gave Lev some of her water. Then they pressed on.  
Even the plants themselves changed as they walked further and further down. Vines hung like spider webs between trees and things like giant beanstalks swayed eerily. Bright green leaves, bloated with water, dripped incessantly.  
“Do you think its drinkable?” Puli asked.  
“I wouldn’t,” And said. And if he refused, that was about the end of the conversation.  
Hard plants of different color like coral twisted up from the ground. Unlike before, where they had seen and sensed critters scurrying and rustling, here there was nothing. They seemed to go where others feared to tread.  
“We should go faster,” Lena whispered. “I do not like the feel of this place.”  
“I cannot go any faster,” Lev groaned at the back.   
But before she could respond, Zek intervened, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think we should be doing anything…rushed in here.”  
Lena nodded. “Yes. This place is thick with the dark side.”  
Others nodded, but privately Abel disagreed. Sure, this place was mysterious and probably dangerous, but he didn’t think sides had anything to do with it. It was just a wild place.  
As they walked, Abel thought he could hear a faint…crackling? Was it the sound of a thousand scurrying insects coming to attack? It was a wisp of a sound, just in reach, but it kept nagging at him.  
“Does anyone else hear it?” he finally asked. “This…crackling sound?” No one answered in the affirmative.  
“I hear it,” Lev mumbled. “I’ve been hearing it for a while.” The group stopped, listening. One person hearing something was one thing, but two of them? Several of them thought they heard it to.  
“Well…” Tiloa said. “Should we keep moving?” They decided to keep moving, but they were all on high alert. Maybe it was nothing, but they weren’t going to take that chance.  
Strange scents began to float by, too. It smelled like rotting flowers. No wonder, Abel thought, in a damp forest like this, everything’s probably rotting.  
Finally, after another call from Lev they agreed to stop for a rest. Their food and water were gone already. But although he was certainly parched and could use a dinner, Abel wasn’t too worried. This strange forest would pass, he was sure. After all, most of the forests around the temple weren’t like this.  
“Does anyone want to try to climb to find out where we are?” Tiloa asked. No one volunteered. “Didn’t think so.”  
Looking around at all the water, he finally understood the line, “water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink.” Yep.   
The light filtering through the trees was golden. It must be nearing sundown.  
“Well, we don’t want to be here when the sun goes down,” Abel said, standing up and stretching. “I’d hate to think what kind of things happen here in the dark.”  
“Yes,” Lena agreed. “We should keep moving.”  
As they gathered themselves, Abel noticed it. “Wait, where’s Lev?”  
Kyrana, who was too tired to be playing mother hen, sat straight up.  
It only took a moment to find him. He was only a few paces away, but he was curled up on the ground, shallow breaths coming out of him.  
“What happened?”  
Then Abel looked behind him where a bush filled with nuts and berries stood.  
“It – it was the same type by the lake,” Lev mumbled. “I thought it safe.”  
“You…you idiot!” Lena shouted. “This whole time we’ve been saying this place is filled with the dark side, now you’ve gone and poisoned yourself.”  
Kyrana wasn’t paying any attention to Lena’s ranting. She was trying to pick Lev up as he continued to mumble. “I thought if I” – wince – “talked to it, like, you know, how we did on the farm…”  
“This is not the farm, Levenbro,” Kyrana said, quietly. “Wild plants may trick you.”  
Suddenly, it clicked for Abel. “I think the crackling sounds we heard…and maybe even the bad smell…I think the plants were communicating. I think they were warning their fellows.” Abel was getting excited having figured out the mystery, but Kyrana pulled him up short.  
“That is not helpful right now.”  
Lev began to choke. He could barely even stand with Kyrana’s help.  
“Does anyone think they could heal him?”  
Most of them looked at their feet. No one was particularly adept at it.  
“Lena?” Zek asked. She was usually the best, but she seemed loath to offer. Kyrana didn’t look especially pleased.  
“Oh…all right.” She bent down for several minutes, hands pressed down on Lev’s stomach, concentrating.   
Finally, she gave up. “I don’t know. I just can’t figure anything out. We learned how to heel bruises and cuts, not poison.”  
Somehow hearing the word ‘poison’ made Abel feel doubly afraid for his friend.  
“We just have to keep going,” And said finally. “We’ll take it slower. It doesn’t look like Lev’s actually about to…I mean, he looks uncomfortable, but I think he can make it.” Kyrana glared at him, but he just shrugged. “We have to try. For his sake too.”  
Their pace, already slowed by the plants, was now twice as slow. Every time Lev doubled over in pain, Abel saw Lena turn and mutter. To Abel’s vague surprise, Odo also kept casting looks at Lev, though as always, the Duro’s eyes were unreadable.  
Abel stayed back to help Lev. At one point, Kyrana also stumbled and Abel reached out to help her. She shrugged him off.   
Abel thought it odd that the others didn’t seem overly concerned for Lev’s plight. They burrowed forward with only occasional glances back or “you’ll be alright, Lev”s. Or maybe it wasn’t odd, Abel thought with disgust, it wasn’t odd at all.  
And to top it all off, the forest continued its sickly moist feel. He felt like they were just walking in circles and circles.  
The sun had set and shadows now crept into the forest. The forest, like all the forests of Tython, seemed to breath, but down here it breathed ragged, like a dying creature, and a vague threat began to grow in Abel’s mind.  
Their column abruptly stopped as Abel walked straight into Kay. Abel quickly saw why as Lena and Odo stood facing them. Evidently, they had been whispering the whole way and now had a plan. Abel had a sinking feeling he wouldn’t like it.  
“I’m sorry, but Odo and I feel that we must continue on.”   
No one spoke.  
“We have tried to keep pace with Lev, throughout the whole time, and this is simply the final tick.” Abel could feel Kyrana beginning to seethe beside him. “Night has fallen. Odo and I do not trust to spend the night in this dark place. We have resolved to run ahead at a fast pace to reach a safer place. We’re sorry.”  
Still no one said anything. Not even Kay. They didn’t know how to handle this parting of ways.  
“You are not sorry,” Kyrana finally intoned. Her voice shook. “You wanted this from the beginning. You wanted to leave us behind so you could finish first. You always have to be first.”  
“This is not about that,” Lena replied, losing patience. “If we go faster, we can get help for Lev –”  
“Don’t you,” Kyrana shook, raising her fist. “Don’t you pretend you’re doing this for Lev. You are doing this for Lena, as you always do.”   
Lena stood up straight. In the shadows, Abel could only just make out her eyes, but they were filled with anger. “It is you who always does what she wants. I? I have always…all of you have always scorned me, hated me, but not because I was better. Not because you were jealous.” Her voice was quivering. “No, because I was different. Because I always tried to do the right thing instead of the fun thing, because I always worked – I worked so hard – and you would –”  
“You don’t think I worked hard? Nothing ever came easy to me, everything I have, I have worked for –”  
But Lena had continued over Kyrana. “None of you ever listened to me. Ever cared about me. Because I actually took the Force seriously, because I actually listened to what it was telling me.” Lena, who had been on the verge of tears, stopped yelling and pulled herself up. “I have actually tried to live by the light side of the Force, and you do not care. That is the difference.”  
Kyrana’s eyes flashed and her muscles tensed like a tiger. Lena angled her hand.  
Lev sank to the ground once more and whimpered. The fight went out of Kyrana and she went to attend him.  
The tension left and Lena breathed out. As she set out to go, though, she couldn’t resist one last word.  
“I said it before. The darkness shrouds him. Maybe that’s why he was so eager to eat the fruit of these dark woods. But the dark side will always betray you.” She began to walk, but repeated the parting: “May the Force be with you.” Then she and Odo left swiftly.  
To his right, Abel heard Kay whisper in answer: “And may the darkness take you.”  
And the shadows lengthened in the deepening dark of the sick, wet wood.


	11. The Forest Path

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> .  
> Pronunciation Guide:  
> Sila’amak ta = see-LAH-AH-mahk tah [silaʔamakta]  
> .  
> New Concept/Word  
> How Tython storms and forests operate  
> Sila’amak ta  
> Whole description of Tholothian headdress, including Asara rebellion and Mako  
> Patterns of the rising of the moons  
> .

Chapter 11: The Forest Path  
.  
They slept on the ground, as fearful of the trees as they were of potential predatory animals. Probably even more so since they hadn’t seen a creature over the last twelve hours. This time they decided to set a watch and trade off every two hours. And took the first watch as the rest tried to get comfortable on the wet ground. They didn’t dare pull off the elephantine leaves from the trees.  
Abel had to wrench himself awake the next morning. He had slept badly all through the night, even without having to wake up for the watch. Once everyone was up, they kept walking.  
Any trace of life was extinguished. They trudged on like the walking dead. The light filtering down through the trees was a cold gray light, though the forest was as warm as ever. The reason for the gray became clear only a half hour into their walk as the clouds broke and rain came streaming through. They took it gladly, filling their bottles, jamming it down their faces, then filling their bottles again.  
Lev meanwhile had stopped groaning, but he moved gingerly, hesitating with almost every step. He didn’t complain, but seemed listless and not entirely there, which worried Abel even more. Still, he was able to move.  
They finally began to move upwards in elevation and after two hours the creeping plants thinned out and were replaced by the Tython forests they were used to. They passed by several promising edible bushes. Weary as they were, they still thought they were too close to the jungle.  
The rain grew steadily worse throughout the day, so that the rejuvenating wash became a downpour and by afternoon, the downpour had become a storm.  
They were climbing up a steep slope and could see the forest from whence they had come, but up so high they were buffeted by the strong winds of the summer storm. Average storms on Tython were like hurricanes back home; probably the result of living on such a Force-charged planet. But the trees here were equally infused with the Force and were usually up to the task of withstanding the winds. They bent back and forth, leaning against each other for support.   
As the classmates were pushed around, Abel suddenly realized why so much of Tython was covered in forests. Trees stood a lot better chance of withstanding these storms if they stood together. Clustered in a forest, the winds were less of a threat than if they stood alone. And, of course, all the other plants and animals benefited from this protection. It was their haven.  
“We have to find cover!” And shouted over the roaring wind and pelting rain. He looked ominously at the swaying trees whose roots were starting to pull up. “We’re too exposed here!”  
“Look!” Tiloa shouted, pointing ahead. “Look at the cliffs!”  
Abel could just make out ahead of them, shrouded in mists, the outlines of rocky cliffs.   
“I’ll bet there’ll be some caves in there!”  
“But won’t we be even more exposed up there?” Kay called. Tiloa just shrugged.  
But with a goal in mind, they set out at a renewed pace.  
As they were climbing, a quick flash illuminated the cliff side, and a few seconds later there came a deafening bang.  
“Even more reason to get in those caves!” And shouted. “I don’t fancy being caught in another one of those fires!”  
But as they were running up, Abel heard a faint cry behind him. Turning around, he saw Lev face down in the mid. Kyrana was frantically trying to pull him up and Abel ran back down to help. Together they managed to pull him up as Abel cried out to the others to halt. Kyrana slapped Lev’s face, but it was no use; he had fainted. The two of them tried to carry Lev together, but they just couldn’t manage it.  
“Can we lift him with the Force?” And yelled next to Abel’s ear. Kyrana was already shaking her head, crying.  
“I can’t, I can’t…”  
“It’s alright. Kyrana?” She looked at And who had placed his hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, we’re gonna get him up. Tiloa! Zek!”  
The three Jedi took their places and, closing their eyes and stretching out their hands, began to lift Lev and bring him up the slope. In retrospect, it was a sight to behold, Abel thought. They were deaf to the world, this Cerean, Nautoloan and Togruta, deaf to the driving rain and the wind whipping at their heels, concentrating solely on keeping Lev afloat and moving up the hill. Abel and Kay watched out for them, ready to help at a moment’s notice, while Puli took Kyrana in her arms and led her up the slope.  
Kay called out that he was going ahead to scout for a cave and he leapt away. Abel offered to help with Lev, but And shooed him away. He understood. They were in their element now.  
Kyrana was mumbling inconsolably, but Puli continued to stroke her head and whisper gentle things to her. She looked up darkly at Abel, still keeping her arms around Kyrana.  
Kay soon came back to say he had found a cave and after a few more tense minutes, they filed into the rocky hole.  
It was hardly a cave and they were all barely able to fit, but it had the added benefit of its entrance being protected by several large slabs of rock. They laid Lev down in the corner. Zek checked his pulse and other vitals while the others looked on. Zek sighed.  
“He is still alive.” Abel didn’t like the sound of that. “But he’s weak, very weak. I think he’ll need to stay here a while to rest.”  
“But if it’s poison,” Abel said, “don’t we need to get him –”  
“I don’t think he was poisoned exactly,” Zek said, “at least, not in the way you mean it. The chemicals would probably be potent enough to kill small animals, insects maybe, who were trying to harm the plant, but not for creatures as big as us. It would just make us horribly sick. But with all the traveling we’ve been doing and the lack of proper food and water…well, again, he’s very weak.”  
“Should we start a fire?” Abel asked.  
“That would help. And water, of course. And food, but…berries would probably be the best, but I don’t know if his stomach would like it, considering the circumstances.”  
“Trust me, those weren’t normal berries,” Abel said. Abel and Zek set out for berries, while Kay went for firewood. After finding some edible berries (not of the same type Lev had eaten), they came back to find a fire already crackling. Evidently, they had already managed to draw the water out of the soaked firewood.  
Puli took the berries and put them into one half of her broken bottle to make a natural bowl. She ground them up into a liquid, mixing them with water, then poured them down Lev’s throat. Kyrana sat by his side stroking his ears. Abel moved to sit by his friend on the opposite side. On a whim, he placed his hand on Lev’s body. Feeling the skin beneath his hand, he tried to heal him, focusing on the connections he felt, trying to mend, trying to calm…  
He eventually withdrew his hand. He could sense no change. He slumped back.  
And came over to where Abel sat with Puli, Kyrana and the lifeless Lev.  
“I’ve been talking with the others, and we think we should try to press on to get help. Even if the masters refuse to do anything, we’ll go in, get some supplies and come right back – preferably with a ship, stolen if need be, and if we have to walk, we’ll walk.” Puli laughed and even Kyrana managed a smile.  
“Is it safe in this storm?”  
Zek glanced outside, but And just smirked. “Seriously? A storm against Jedi?”  
“I thought you were the one worried about the fire.”  
“That was when we had Lev to worry about.”  
“Ah…”  
“So. Are you coming with us?”  
“I’ll stay,” Puli said. “Kyrana can use the help.” And nodded, then looked at Abel. He didn’t have to think about it.  
“I’m staying to. I have to.” And smiled and nodded.  
“I thought so.” He and the three others got set to leave, but Kyrana lifted her head and spoke.  
“No. Not him.” She was looking right at Abel. “I don’t want you to stay.”  
“But I want to help him.”  
“You can help him. By going to get help, you help him.” But she said this flatly.  
“I…I wasn’t there for him before, but this time I want –”  
“I don’t care what you want,” Kyrana simmered, “I’m asking that you do what I want.”   
Abel stood up, wanting to say more, but just sighed. “I will go. For your sake.”  
After this exchange, And knelt once more to Kyrana. He took her hand in his hand. “Trust in the Force, Kyrana. Trust in us. We will see him through.” She looked up at him. “Sila’amak ta.”  
Her lips twitched into a smile. “Si – Sila’amak ta,” she replied back as her lekku wiggled.  
The five of them traipsed out of the cave and back into the swirling storm.  
As they trudged, Abel asked And, “What was that you said to Kyrana?”  
He raised his eyebrows. “Sila’amak ta? It is a common Twi’lek parting, meaning something like ‘May it keep you,’ or ‘May you keep.’ At least literally. But ‘to keep’ means more in Twi’lek than it does in Basic.” This whole time he was continuing to shout over the wind. “It’s saying may you stay there for me, may you…be cared for, may you rest easy; it’s imploring the world to keep this person safe.”  
“It sounds a little like ‘may the Force be with you.’”  
And tilted his head. “Yeah, I guess it does.”  
Suddenly, a nearby tree cracked and, with its roots pulling out from the loose sloping soil, it began to fall in their path. Abel saw it fall, saw its path curve toward Tiloa and with an almighty kick, Abel propelled himself toward her, colliding with her and knocking her down the slope. The tree fell behind them with a groan.  
Abel sat up slowly to see Kay running at them through the rain. “What happened?”  
Tiloa sat up to. “He – he saved me from the falling tree.” She laughed. “Damn this rain, my senses were all a mess…” Then she hugged Abel, squeezing tight. And and Zek made it over the newly fallen tree and came upon them.  
As they broke apart, Abel looked past Tiloa. The ground around them was strewn with the corpses of newly fallen trees, but beyond them, the forest endured. He stood up.  
“I’m sorry, but I have to go back.”  
“What?”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“Kyrana’s not gonna like that.”  
Abel smiled as they peppered him with questions. “No. I don’t think she is. But I have to.”  
Not to Abel’s surprise, Zek alone nodded. “Alright. We’ll see you when we’re all done.”  
With a quick smile, Abel made his way back up the slope.  
He ducked back under the cave and was met with the shocked faces of Puli and Kyrana. With lightning flashing behind him and rain rattling, he must have appeared like a ghost.  
“Did you forget something?”  
“No. I’m staying.”  
“I thought I told you –”  
“Please?” Abel looked straight at Kyrana. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t pleading, he was simply filled with purpose. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I am sorry. I truly am. I never…I have never wanted to cause harm.”  
“But you did.”  
“Yes. You are right. I did. So now I ask your forgiveness. Can I please stay to help him, can I…atone for the wrong I have done him? I ask this of you.”  
Puli just looked from Abel to Kyrana, not saying a word.  
Kyrana sighed. “Fine. You are already here, you might as well stay and be useful.” Not daring to smile, Abel sat to tend the fire. “But don’t think I have fully forgiven you,” Kyrana said, looking darkly at him. “I still do not fully trust you.”  
Abel just nodded.  
The fire was running low. Abel went outside to fetch more.  
.  
By the next morning, the rains had stopped. The air was settled and a sheen of sparkling dew covered the forest floor. But as Abel looked out of the cave, the thing that first caught his eye was the scene of devastation immediately outside: trunks and branches crisscrossed, sticking out at odd angles, leaving a barren face of dirt and rock until hitting the forest line a hundred yards away.  
Abel walked out as the sun hid again behind the stratus clouds and low hanging mists. The wind still blew in a steady gust. It was cool, though not chilly. As Abel climbed between wood and rock, a few black birds landed on one of the fallen branches. They hopped down and picked through the dead wood, in the crannies between, probably looking for worms or other small creatures brought out by the wet.  
“Abel?” He heard quietly behind him. Puli crawled out of the cave and walked towards him, pulling her shirt back on and crossing her arms. There were dark circles under her eyes.  
“Wow. It was quite a storm.”  
“Yep.” They continued to look around.  
“Do you” – yawn – “do you want to go get some more wood? And food?”  
“Sure.”  
“I’ll go let Kyrana know.” Puli gently nudged Kyrana awake and told her where they were going, then they set off down the slope.  
Abel watched as the tendrils of Puli’s headdress whipped around in the wind. They were so much a part of her, he couldn’t imagine what Puli would look like without it. Quite strange, he suspected.  
“What exactly is the significance of the Tholothian headdress?” Abel asked. Puli stopped abruptly, looking shocked.  
“Really? Here we are, alone in the woods and Lev on death’s door, and… Alright. Well…it’s traditional clothing for Tholothian women, but not traditional like ‘it’s important and we wear it on important occasions.’ More like it’s expected at all times.” Abel was reminded of the hijab.  
“Right, but is it religious? Cultural?”  
Puli tilted her head this way and that. “Both, I suppose. Tens of thousands of years ago, humans colonized Tholoth, as you know.” He nodded. “And during those years, we became a slightly different species.” They had reached the forest and they began to search for food as Puli talked. “Then when Tholoth and other human Colonies were brought back into the republic, we were treated as second class citizens, like all the rest. For thousands of years, it was like this.” Abel interrupted to point out a berry bush. Excited, she rushed forward and began to pick. “Then, several thousand years ago, a Tholothian man named Zumo Asara led a revolution against the Republic presence on Tholoth. And while he and his band of followers were eventually defeated, the Republic granted them – us – full access to councils, education, and everything else as a full and equal partner planet like Coruscant and Corellia.” Puli squealed as she ran over to a small tree and pulled off what looked like an orange apple. Abel went over to collect some as well.  
“And the headdresses?”  
“Right. Well, Asara’s most aggressive followers were actually women. And when they heard the Chancellor’s speech, which included a line about Tholothian women having “hair as beautiful as any normal human women,” they were livid. So they shaved their hair. And in its place, they wove a crown of these,” Puli said, running her hand through the tendrils, “Mako petals. They were the petals of the Mako flower, a rubbery plant found in still water. They are considered the height of grace and beauty on Tholoth, but most humans think they’re ugly.” She shrugged. “It became a symbol of national pride.”  
Abel nodded. “And its religious connection?”  
“Oh,” Puli said, screwing up her face, “yes, it became co-opted by our major religion, which claimed that the Mako petals were supposed to have a certain…spirit of wisdom and beauty. Then it became the standard. So it’s not required, but any self-respecting Tholothian woman wears one. At this point, our hair is considered ugly, and our headdress attractive and normal.”   
Abel was about to ask another question when he was interrupted by a crashing through the bushes. They barely had time to turn around before Kyrana was on them.  
“Where have you been?” she screamed frantically. “I wake up and no one is there. I thought –”  
“We told you before going out that we were looking for food,” Abel whined.  
She stopped short. “Oh. Well…” She turned on Abel. “You should have been certain I was awake enough to hear and understand you!”  
“Kyrana,” Puli said, stepping in, “I was the one who told you, there’s no reason to harp on Abel.”  
“Ah. I see.” She ruffled her feathers. “Next time, Puli, please make sure I am awake. Now, we need to water Lev.” And with a last glare at Abel, she stalked off.  
Puli caught Abel’s eye and they stifled their giggles. Aside from Kyrana’s linguistic faux pas – she didn’t start learning basic until she was six, and Abel was grateful that the grammatical structure was oddly close to English – it was Kyrana’s imperial attitude that especially struck him funny.  
He watched Kyrana as she marched on ahead, her lekku trailing like the train of a dress. Kyrana, too, had her headdress, just like Puli. Actually, many Jedi brought their own cultural pieces with them. Oddly enough, Abel had nothing like that. It’s ironic that he should need no piece of his old life to hold on to like a talisman considering he was the pioneer of his planet in this new world, yet the people of these cultures that had existed in the Republic for tens of thousands of years still yearned for theirs. He didn’t know if that said something about his culture on Earth, the Union, or him.  
.  
After collecting more wood from right outside their cave, they spent the bulk of the day inside, avoiding the mists. They amused themselves by eating, napping, eating, practicing with the force, trying time and time again to heal Lev, and more eating. They didn’t talk much, mostly because Kyrana kept an ambiance of a wake.   
As night drove in, the mists slowly drove out, but not fast enough for the sun to shine through clearly.  
“Ahhh,” Puli sighed, looking out, “the stars are out.”  
Abel looked over her shoulder and saw them too, the fifty or so stars that had appeared so far.  
“It is funny,” Kyrana said from behind them, “as a little girl, I loved the stars. The Twi’lek people had so many stories about the people and places from there, and I would pretend to go there in my mind.” She got up and huddled next to them, looking up. “Of course, I didn’t really understand that those worlds were like mine. I thought they were all places of light, like what I saw, and that everything there was perfect.” She smiled and shook her head. “I even thought that maybe the stars were the people they were talking about and that they lived on the black canvas like a land.”  
“Some cultures on Earth had similar beliefs,” Abel said. “That the stars were people placed up into the sky.”  
“I thought that the stars were people, too,” Puli said. “Or I thought that they were our reflections in the sky, people’s reflections, like you see in the water.”  
“That’s a nice idea,” Kyrana said.  
“It wasn’t exactly mine. In came from a story my mother read to me when I was younger.”  
“But,” Abel said, “didn’t you know that people went up into space?”  
Puli shrugged. “Yes. Or maybe not. I knew they went to other places, but I don’t think I knew what that really meant for a couple years.”  
“That’s funny,” Abel said. “There I was, on a planet where the farthest away anyone had ever been was the moon, and I’m the only one who doesn’t remember the stars being anything but what they were.”  
“Speaking of the moon,” Puli said, pointing, “Here comes Ashla now.” The bright moon of the light was rising in the east above the tree line. The white orb hung serenely and seemed to smile down, with its silver rays gleaming through the leaves.  
Then a noise behind them jolted them out of their reverie. Lev was awake!  
Kyrana rushed over to him. “Lev! Lev!” She put her hand to his forehead.  
“Mmm…what’s…”  
“Shh, shh,” Kyrana cooed back. Lev opened his eyes and blinked several times.  
“Kana,” he groaned. “I’m not dead, am I?”  
“Not dead yet,” Abel joked, beaming in spite of himself.  
“Don’t say that,” Puli said, hitting him.  
But Lev’s eyes lit up and his trunk-like nose wiggled. He had chuckled.  
“Not yet,” he agreed.  
“Do you want anything?” Kyrana asked softly.  
“No, no,” Lev croaked. “Nothing…”  
Then, from outside the cave, a strange light began to shine from the opposite angle of Ashla, jarring the milky beams and dispersing them.  
“It looks like Bogan’s out, too,” Puli commented, looking out. The others looked up. It was relatively rare that both moons rose at opposite ends at the same time.  
“Ahh…” Lev sighed, “I awoke with the moon.” He was looking at Ashla and started to hum.  
As the dark blue light faded to black, the four of them faded to sleep.  
.  
He didn’t know what time it was, but it was still dark…or was it?  
Opening his eyes into slits, he could just make out through the mouth of the cave the forest scene and to his astonishment, there was a faint gray light.  
Then he realized that there was a hand on his shoulder. Kyrana was looking at him and put a hand on his mouth. Don’t speak, it clearly said. Her eyes were wide.  
Leaning down, she whispered, trembling, “There are manka cats right outside.”  
Abel strained to listen but could hear nothing but the calm wind. He was about to ask how she knew when he saw them.  
It hopped silently up to a rock just outside, its sleek body like water shining in the moonlights. Abel hadn’t really gotten a great look at them last time, but now he could admire its long curving fangs, beady eyes, and sharp talons. It looked almost twice as big as a tiger on Earth, more like a bear in size, but still with the quick precision of a cat.  
“Whu…what do we do?” Puli breathed.  
“I thought they only fed during dusk and dawn,” Abel whispered.  
“It must be the twin lights of the moon,” Kyrana replied. “It must mimic the light of dawn.”  
One of the two cats suddenly pounced and dug its head into a hole. It clawed frantically while the other jumped around it, then paced at a wider perimeter, perhaps scoping out another way in.  
“This is bad, they’re obviously checking the rocks for food,” Puli said.  
“And we can’t run away. Lev’s still too weak for that,” Kyrana said, putting her hand to her head.  
“So we fight, then,” Abel stated. “Or at least draw them away.”  
Kyrana frowned. “I wish And were here. Or Tiloa. They are much better at this than we are. No offense,” she added.  
“None taken,” Abel smiled. “But I do think you’re strong enough to repel them, Kyrana. I’ve seen you.”  
She frowned again. “In practice, yes. But… The best thing would be to hypnotize them, or lull them to sleep.” She looked at them pointedly, but they shrugged.  
“Honestly, Lev would be the best for that with his music,” Abel said.  
“Isn’t that ironic,” Puli said, “now we finally need Lev and he’s out of it.” Kyrana glared at her.  
“What? It’s true!”  
“O.K.,” Abel interrupted, brushing the hair out of his face. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to try to lure them away, starting by calming them from inside the cave. I can’t put them to sleep, but good enough to lower their drive for a bit. Then you two slowly go and get some rocks or something and hit them in the heads.”  
Kyrana and Puli looked at each other doubtfully.  
“What, are we supposed to walk up to them?” Puli asked. “I don’t know if I have the precision or the strength to knock them out by throwing them.”  
“Do you have any better ideas?”  
They shook their heads and made ready to follow them.  
Abel stretched his hands out, one to each cat, and began to connect to them, sending calm.  
Within a few seconds, the one stopped pacing and just stared at one spot, while the other stopped frantically pawing. One sniffed carefully and the other stretched. After a few minutes, neither cat was moving.  
“Oookayyy…” Abel whispered. “I think you can try to move out.”  
Ever so lightly, the girls toed out of the cave and circled around to find rocks and cover. Abel barely noticed them move, keeping all his attention on the cats. It was especially hard though considering he had just been woken up from a deep sleep not five minutes ago.  
One of the cats flicked its ear. Abel took several deep breaths.  
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kyrana moving forward to his right. She held a great stone in her hand and rested it on a rock.  
To his surprise, one of the cats gave a great yawn, stretched, then slumped forward and curled into sleep. The other one followed suit.  
All was quiet now except for the steady wind.  
“Maybe…maybe we don’t have to kill them,” Abel whispered to Kyrana.  
“I still think we should,” she said. “They could wake up at any moment, and we’d be right back where we started.”  
“Where’s Puli?” he asked.  
She jerked her head to Abel’s left. “That way, ready to strike it seems.”  
Then he saw Puli creeping slowly to the one on the left. It seemed that she trusted her own hands more than the Force. Kyrana meanwhile had closed her eyes and was lifting the rock.  
“Tell me when Puli is bringing hers down to strike,” she told Abel. “That way we can attack at the same time.”  
Abel had a flashback to watching the first Star Wars where Obi-Wan blindfolded Luke, and only then was he able to trust the Force. It seemed that was what Kyrana was doing. Her face was serene, totally prepared to throw the rock through the air and hit its intended target. Suddenly, admiration welled up inside of him; he could not explain why or even what it was, but she was –   
Then he realized his mistake. While he was distracted, his hold on the cats had broken. They each yawned again and began to blink open their eyes.  
“Puli stop!” Abel yelled, getting to his feet. In surprise, Puli stopped and turned toward him, only meters away from her target. Kyrana too dropped her rock.  
The cats moved.  
“Puli! Run!” Abel yelled.  
The cat nearest her suddenly lunged, but he was too slow as she had already started sprinting away.  
But as Abel turned his eyes away from that scene, he realized another problem: the other cat was looking directly at him.  
.  
Frozen in fear, Abel stared as the cat bounded towards him. When it was only a leap from the cave, a great rock slammed into its body and it was thrown sideways.  
Kyrana, who still had her wits about her, had sent her rock flying. But of course she had missed its head.  
“Help me!” She screamed to Abel as she ran by with a smaller, softball-sized rock in her hand. She leaped at the dazed cat, landing on its back, and tried to hit it in the head. The cat, however, struggled back and tried to buck her off. Kyrana held on for dear life.  
Abel was finally galvanized into action, but he couldn’t try anything with the two of them entwined.   
Kyrana was finally thrown off, but as the cat turned to tear her apart, Abel threw a force punch at it which knocked it away.   
Kyrana scrambled to her feet and ran back to Abel. Without a word, she struck a rock at their feet, slicing off a thin portion. She picked it up. She had a knife.  
The cat came roaring back and the two of them stopped it in its tracks, holding it down with the Force. They began to circled it slowly.  
It took a swipe at Kyrana’s leg. She darted away, then lunged herself at the cat, knife first. It also moved, but not quickly enough for the knife to find flesh in its shoulder.  
It roared again, bucking Kyrana off, but then it lunged straight at Abel. Abel, not expecting it, just managed to jump back toward the cave and avoid its deadly claws.  
But as he did, he tripped and fell back. Seeing its chance, the cat bounded at him again, and Abel didn’t have time enough to raise his hands.  
With a sickened thud, the knife embedded itself into the cat’s skull. The great manka cat fell at Abel’s feet, and with one last almighty yowl, died.  
Kyrana came rushing over and removed the tool from the cat.  
“Are you fine?” she asked Abel.  
“Yes,” he said breathlessly. “You?”  
She shrugged. She had hardly paid attention, still attuned to the fight.  
“We have to go find and help –”  
But she was cut off as claws raked her shoulder.  
The other manka cat had arrived. Abel didn’t know what that meant for Puli, but he hardly had time to consider as Kyrana cried out in pain.  
But before he could do anything, the cat sent Kyrana flying backwards into the cave and she slammed against the jagged rock.  
He sent another weak push against the cat and ran back to check on Kyrana. He rushed over and found blood pulsing out of Kyrana’s arm.  
No, no, no, no…  
Her breathing was shallow and she winced, but her eyes were closed.  
Abel heard a growl behind him.  
The cat was standing at the ready at the mouth of the cave, framed in the silver moonlight of the night.  
It was just him and the cat.  
But again he froze. He didn’t know what to do, his own strength was failing. The cat was too strong.  
He sensed a stirring beside him. Lev was standing up, eyes barely open, walking towards the cat. He tried to sing. The cat twitched.  
But the tones wouldn’t come, Abel could see. It wasn’t working. Lev was walking forward to his death.  
Well. That’s not going to happen.  
The cat prepared to pounce. Lev looked straight at it and it seemed to Abel – though it was probably just a trick of the moonlight – that he was smiling.  
The cat lunged, but so did Abel.  
Abel took it in the chest, smelling sweat and fur as he rolled with the cat in a bear hug. The cat tossed its head this way and that, trying to bite him. Its claws couldn’t reach around to get him either, so Abel hung on.  
As he did, he could feel the creature’s heartbeat against his, could feel its muscles pulling and pumping beneath his. It was so strong, much stronger than he was.  
But no, Abel thought. It is not stronger than me. The Force is with me. THE FORCE IS WITH ME.  
He hugged tighter and tighter, he could feel the bones of the cat straining, beginning to break. Its ribs were collapsing, its heart was shrinking.  
The beast let loose not with a howl, but a mew. Such a sweet plead, its cry.   
And Abel began to release.  
This is a mistake, he thought, it will crush me in my weakness.  
But he didn’t care. The Force was with him. He trusted it.  
He looked up into the screwed up eyes of the cat, which were wide with fright and stared out into the stars. Perhaps sensing Abel’s gaze, it looked down at him.  
“Sila’amak ta,” he said to it.  
He didn’t know what possessed him to say it, but he said it anyways.  
The cat slowly stopped struggling and lay on the ground like a slug, belly up, still staring at Abel. Abel unwound his arms from her and touched his hand to her head.  
The cat rubbed up against it. It mewed again.  
“That’s a good girl,” he said and he started to pet her.  
In a moment, all of the tension of the fight was gone. Something between them had changed, but it was like they had flipped over a line, one moment fighting, the next not, with no space in between.  
He got up and she rolled over.  
“Go,” he said, motioning to the forest. “Go back to your pups.”  
She dutifully stood up, and with one last rub up against him, padded away into the forest of moonlight.  
But this moment of triumph was quickly forgotten as Abel swiveled around to see to Kyrana. Lev was crouched over her, but he himself was doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach. Abel joined him and got his first good look at Kyrana’s arm: it was mangled, unusable. Blood was seeping out of the three great gashes and Kyrana’s eyes were far away. Then they seemed to focus in on Abel.  
“Abel,” she croaked, gesturing with her other hand, “please.”  
Abel stared at her, sweat dripping from his nose. Next to him, Lev sank back into his makeshift bed.  
“I know what you would have me do…” Abel said to her.  
She nodded. “I know you can – ah! – I know; you have done it before.” She slowly shook her head, trying to concentrate.  
Of course, he would have to try. Without an arm, her powers would be severely diminished; yes, she could always get a bionic arm, but they were notoriously difficult to use the Force with. He would have to try.  
“Do or do not; there is no try.”  
The phrase echoed in his head as he took her bloodied arm into his hands.  
Shut up, dammit.   
Her blood ran onto his fingers.  
Oh great, I hope she doesn’t get an infection.  
He settled his hands and began to mentally trace the lines of veins, skin and muscle beneath his fingertips.  
It was strange. The first time they had practiced, everyone had felt awkward about the whole production. Perhaps that was why nobody was healed the first time. There was no sense of urgency, no threat…but no, that wasn’t it, was it? For Abel had healed Kyrana. But it wasn’t fear he had felt, not that biting sensation pulling him on; it was…nothing. Right? He didn’t remember doing anything; it had healed on its own.  
He stopped mentally tracing the connections he felt beneath him, let it all fade away. This was no rock he was breaking or repairing…or was it? What was the difference after all?  
Stop this thinking, he thought. Here he was, trying to heal her, and all he was doing was thinking of the possibilities.  
“Live in the moment.”  
See, now that’s stupid advice too.  
But no, really, getting back to that previous thought. Are living things really so special, that putting Humpty Dumpty back together again should be so impossible? Come to think of it, what exactly was Humpty Dumpty? Was he, like, an egg?   
This was getting exhausting.  
Then Kyrana reached up to him and lightly touched his forearm.  
“You think too much.”  
She smiled with her eyes closed.  
“I can almost hear them from here.” She laughed, then all of a sudden, she kept laughing, blood spurting out from her arm.  
“I’m laughing,” she laughed. “And bleeding!”  
“Hold still,” Abel complained, but he too was laughing. He pulled away to laugh more.  
Puli entered. “Well, what’s going on here?”  
“Abel was trying to heal my wounds, but he gave up.”  
“I did not give up, you made me laugh!” They chuckled again.  
“What wounds?” Puli asked. Kyrana looked at her arm.  
The gashes were gone. All that was left was the blood pooled on the floor.  
.  
In the aftermath of the manka cat attack, their spirits were oddly elated. Puli, it turns out, had climbed a tree and had been preparing to attack the other cat when the cat was suddenly summoned by her fellow’s dying cry.   
Kyrana’s wound had indeed been healed, but they couldn’t figure out exactly how it had happened. Abel didn’t remember feeling the tingle he had when he had healed her before. Even Kyrana didn’t seem to remember feeling anything. One moment she were hemorrhaging blood, the next her skin was as smooth as shell.  
Nor did anyone understand what possessed Abel to let the second manka cat go.  
“Especially after you had already thrown yourself into its claws like that!” Kyrana exclaimed as she helped Lev get back into bed. “Really, you are a fool.” Though she was smiling.  
“I don’t know. I just felt the cat was so full of fear, and when I suddenly felt sad, it…everything seemed to change. I can’t explain what it felt like. Like each of us knew that we were no longer fighting. I don’t know.” The fire crackled as he thought. “The Force, am I right?” he joked.  
“When in doubt, say the Force did it,” Puli said, echoing an old school standby. They laughed.  
The next morning, even Lev was feeling better, good enough to travel (though with generous breaks). So they set off with a little more pep in their step.  
They chatted amiably as they ambled through the forest. They were even able to coax Lev into the conversation. They each had their own stories to tell, and Kyrana seemed to have a particularly enjoyable time correcting Abel’s observations. It was a wonder to see the change that living through danger could bring.  
Around midday they sent Abel up a tree to investigate while Lev took another break. As he popped his head out of the branches, he spied a sparkling sight.  
“We’re close! I can see the waterfall off in the distance. No more than…” He cut himself short to have a real discussion down on the ground.  
“If we were – well, at this pace we’ll probably get there in another twelve hours.”  
“Probably tomorrow then,” Puli said.  
“Today,” Lev said, bending over. “I can go faster.”  
Kyrana looked like she was going to protest, but she bit her lip.

It was late in the afternoon, when the shadows of things were longer than the things themselves, when they stumbled upon the ash. At first, they didn’t know what it was, coating the little trees like snow, but it was Kyrana who named it. The trees turned black as they went further and further, becoming a forest of sticks, sticking straight up or lying on the ground, both dead. Then there were no more sticks, only a desert of gray sand, swirling in the wind and piling up in dunes.  
They could see for several miles beyond them where the fire had scorched. Some bones of dead trees stuck up at odd angles, but mostly it was just a sea of ash.  
“I don’t know if it is like this on my planet,” Abel breathed.  
“Nor mine,” Puli said.  
“Should we skirt around it?”  
“That would be unnecessary,” Kyrana said. “It would take several more hours. We should press on.”  
Lev nodded.  
They trekked on, in a single file, across the desolate plain.  
The gray wind from the day before had returned and they hugged themselves closely to stem the chill. The sun was setting at their backs, and they could see their long shadows before them through the clouds of dust they kicked up. Beyond them, to the east, Abel could see the waterfall just glinting in the dying rays of the setting sun.  
It was odd, Abel thought, this gaping hole. He could see the line of the forests miles away in each direction. Here, in the midst of all this life was a hole of death.  
By the time they arrived at the tree line, night had fallen and so had the temperature. Lev collapsed on a rock, utterly spent, while Puli sat next to him for warmth.  
“Should we look for shelter?” Abel asked.  
Kyrana threw her hands up. “I don’t even know if we’d find it. We’re probably fine here. We can make up a fire and take watches.”  
“I can take the first one,” Puli volunteered and Kyrana nodded.  
They collected the firewood and found comfortable spots and – in an unusual twist for Abel – he fell right to sleep.

It was still in total darkness when Abel was gently roused by Kyrana. The first thing Abel realized was how cold he was. The wind had picked up and was tossing the flames of their fire back and forth.  
“You will have to be careful with the fire,” Kyrana whispered. “I have protected it from the wind all night.”  
Abel nodded as Kyrana sank back into sleep. He reached over to their pile of nuts and grabbed a handful, slowly nibbling.  
It was odd that the cold brought on by a storm should last this long, Abel thought. It usually cleared after a day. Maybe another’s coming.  
With that sobering thought, Abel moved closer to the fire and poked it with a stick.  
The winds dragged the night on and Abel sank lower into himself. Several times, he shook his head, fearful that he was falling asleep, and he would put another log into the fire. He would watch the others in their sleep.  
They look equally uncomfortable, Abel thought, for they kept tossing and turning, probably from the cold and the hard ground.  
Kyrana twitched and rolled over.  
She was such an enigma, Abel thought. He thought they were back on good terms again, but you could never be sure with her. She was as stubborn and enduring as a rock. Hopefully, by saving her life –   
All at once, Abel was tired of thinking and worrying about Kyrana. Her back was to him and her right lek was draped casually down her side. Abel frowned and looked at Puli, curled up in a ball, and Lev lying on his back, his stomach rising and falling peacefully.  
Abel wanted to go home. He wanted to be back on Earth. These people, this planet…he was a little sick of it all.  
The wind moaned in his ear and he swatted at it.  
Yes, he was sick of all of it. Sick of trying to please everyone, sick of meditating on nothing, even sick of blue milk. He felt like a ship untethered and set at sea without a map. It was an age of exploration for Earthlings, the dawning of a new age, and he was to be her captain. Well he was nobody’s Adam. Yes, he could put his head down and plow through the lessons and plow through friendships, but eventually, he’d have to pull his head up to see where he’s going.  
It’s like walking on a path in the woods. You find yourself starting to trip so you start hopping from rock to rock and before you know it, you’re only ever looking down to make sure your feet are O.K. so your head starts to hurt when you look up and everything looks hazy, so you put your head back down and you never actually get to see the woods. You might as well be on a treadmill. It takes a conscious effort to keep your head up and see the beauty all around you.  
He didn’t want to be a Jedi anymore. He was looking up now and he didn’t like where he was. It was hard to explain to himself, but it just didn’t feel right. He had never belonged here. This was a place of heroes as much as they themselves might deny it.  
But hadn’t he been heroic when he stopped that manka cat?  
No! the wind roared with him. He didn’t know what that was, but that wasn’t him. It must not have been him. He didn’t – doesn’t – have the power. He was sick of trying to be something he wasn’t. Sick, sick, sick! He thought he was going to throw up. Nothing, nothing, nothing! The words from so long ago came screaming back to him like a bat out of hell. But hadn’t he already conquered that demon before? The forest had been his friend then, it had helped him see that he truly was meant to be where and what he was.  
And Abel woke up. Or something like it. He found that he was sprawled on the ground, rolling back and forth.  
The wind, which had been raging, had died down to nothingness.  
The fire was burning low.  
The sky was gray with the promise of morning.  
And Abel connected the dots. He connected with all the forest was telling him, screaming at him.  
He got up and walked forward, step after quiet step. Puffs of smoke filled the air as he once more visited the edge of the desolate plain. It was a wound in the forest, a wound felt by all the forest, and the forest was mourning, the forest was frightened. When it felt the flame rekindled in its belly, it was frightened still further. It did not want it to grow into another inferno.  
Abel gently touched the blackened stump of a once-tree.  
“I will not harm you. Our fire is well protected. It will not grow.” He said this softly. Then, at his feet, Abel spied something living.  
It was a single namiko flower, with its thin pink tendrils. Abel bent down to touch it, careful not to send gray ash to cover its pink head. He scooped the ash around its stem, digging it out until he found solid earth and had made a ring of only earth around this little living thing.  
“Did you hear me?” he asked of it. “You can tell the rest of the forest for me. We will not harm it.” He sat silently for a few moments longer, looking out over the gray. The whole world was gray: the ash-covered ground, the dead trees, the sky…  
Then there was this pink. And green.  
Once again, Abel had a desire to pick the flower and carry it with him, maybe to replant it for his own. But he knew that if he did, it would never speak again. For here, in its home, it could speak to thousands of friends. He felt this. He knew it, even though he didn’t completely understand it.   
As he brushed it gently to leave, he looked at his hand that hovered there. It was his hand. And yet, it was not. The hands that had healed Kyrana of her wounds, the hands that took the manka cat in its grasp and made stones fly, they were not his. They were the hands of many, of the infinite. He looked out over the desolate gray as the words rolled through him, these are not my hands.  
But here and now, they were his hands. And he had a choice.  
So he left the flower alone and returned to the green woods.  
He knocked out their fire, using the last of his water to do so. The hissing woke everyone else up and they questioned him, but he waited for them to quiet before he asked them.  
“Did any of you have fitful dreams? Dreams of fear, of doubt?”  
Reluctantly, each of the other three nodded in their own way.  
“I realized it was the forest. Even the wind was the forest, for it wasn’t a normal wind: it was the Force.”  
Puli scoffed.  
“I know, I know, it sounds crazy. But it’s true. I know it.”  
“How do you know it?”  
“Because…” But how did he know it? He didn’t, really. But he felt it to be true, he felt it so strongly that he knew it.  
“I believe him.” And of all people, it was Kyrana.  
“Think about it,” Abel said excitedly, “the forest is so big, filled with so many plants and things, if they worked together, why wouldn’t they be so powerful in the Force?”  
As they debated and imagined the possibilities, the fire stopped smoking and went completely out. Then a strange knocking began.  
“Shh!” Lev hushed them. “Listen.” They stopped talking as the knocking and groaning grew louder and was met with rustling sounds.  
“Looks like we made it even angrier,” Puli said.  
A little off to their right they saw the trees and plants shaking as if a great jet of wind were streaming through. Then they began to see what was happening.  
The plants were moving. Very slowly and very slightly, but they were moving, bending their branches and stalks so that…so that…  
“It’s a path!” Abel exclaimed.  
The woods had made a path for them. And far off in the distance they could see what looked like people.


	12. Initiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> .  
> Pronunciation Guide:  
> Olya Lu = [olja lu], with the ‘y’ as a glide rather than the sound ‘ee’  
> Relan Baagran = ‘r’ is flipped, as in Spanish  
> Kino = KEE-noh  
> Master Wi = wee  
> .  
> New Concept/Word  
> Melba bread  
> .

Chapter 12: Initiation  
.  
It felt like a grand homecoming. Even with Lev continuing to limp and the rest of them dirty and weary, the tree tunnel felt triumphant, like a line of soldiers hailing them or a great archway. As he passed by, Abel ran his hands across the trunks like a little kid tapping a stick against fence slats.  
They soon found that those figures in the distance were And, Zek, Tiloa and Kay. They hailed each other and those four ran to meet them.  
“What is this?” And asked breathlessly. “Did you guys do this?”  
Puli snorted. “No.”  
“Or at least,” Kyrana said, “not directly.”  
“It was the forest,” Lev said. “It showed us the way.”  
“What the forest giveth, it taketh away,” Abel said in English. And arched an eyebrow. “And gives back again,” Abel mumbled.  
“Did you not make it back?” Kyrana inquired.  
“No, we did!” Kay exclaimed. “Two days ago.”  
“But we came back to look for you guys,” And cut in. “We told the masters what had happened and told them to look for you.”  
“I bet they loved that,” Puli mumbled.  
“They…declined,” Zek continued, “claiming that you would make it through. But we kept pushing and they finally told us that we could go back in to look for you if we wanted.”  
“And look! We brought food!” And held out several helpings of Melba bread from Ryloth, which, in addition to being extremely filling, tasted a lot like honey.  
“And medicine,” Zek said, handing out a bottle to Lev. “Drink it all in one gulp and it should do the trick, at least for now.” Lev did so.  
After a quick bite, the group continued back together. It turned out that the path led back to where the others had been when it was made, so they pushed on from that point into the bush.  
It didn’t seem quite as thick as before. The floor was filled with soft plants like flowers and much of the thorny brambles had disappeared. The sun had also risen above the horizon and it was seeping through the leaves in a golden light. It was warm.  
They met the masters on the lawn at about midday when the sun was high overhead. They had set up a white tent where some looked to be in serious discussion while others were simply lounging on chairs or in the grass. Two were even playing doryo.  
The first to greet them was Master Prada who trotted over to them. He was beaming. “Well done, well done.” He took each of them in turn into his arms.  
Their other teachers sauntered over at a slower pace. Master Yul brought up the rear after several other teachers had given their congratulations. “First, you must eat and rest. But we want to hear tell, from each of you, of your journeys. But that can wait a little while yet.”  
They did as was suggested and were ushered back to their rooms, with the others masters looking curiously on. And and the others stayed to talk with the masters, having already settled back in, but Abel trudged back, flopped on his bed and took a well-deserved nap.  
.  
After he woke up several hours later, he returned to the white tent and talked with Master Yul about his experiences. He told him the plot details, about the search for water, sleeping in the willows, the poisonous wood (as he termed it), Lena and Odo leaving, the storm and search for shelter, staying back to help Lev while the four others left, the manka cat battle and the strange episode at the edge of the forest fire remains. But he also told, at Master Yul’s prompting, his feelings about everything that had happened; how thirsty he had felt, how ashamed he was when Lev took ill, his conflict of whether to stay with him, his momentary…bravery? – or lapse of judgement – at attacking the manka cat, and everything else. The master did not comment, unless to offer a kind gesture. Then he bade him goodbye for the time being. Abel never did find out if the masters had been watching them or if everything they knew of the trial they learned from the initiates.  
These were strange days, in that they weren’t strange at all. There were no obligations. Abel took to meeting the others at the cafeteria for breakfast for a communal meal where they might discuss the events of their trial, but more often than not would debate politics or comment on a new song released by the latest Twi’lek superstar. Then they would go off, usually in smaller groups of threes or fours, to relax by the lake or play Force games or read.  
They were only a group of nine, though, as Lena seemed to have completely severed her bridge with the others by leaving that day. Odo, at least, had apologized respectfully, though he still maintained that it had been the right thing to do. Kyrana was not pleased.  
Abel had reached a truce with the Twi’lek girl. Though he doubted they would ever be “bosom friends,” she at least had a newfound respect for Abel, which earned him a place at her side. Personally, Tiloa had never understood Abel’s apparent need – as she called it – to be friends with Kyrana. But Abel could only respond that they had been friends once, and one-time friends should be forever-friends if both friends had good hearts. And though Kyrana’s was protected with steel, it was good.  
But of course, there was still a sense of foreboding as time crept closer to the Initiation Ceremony where the master would choose his or her apprentice. The initiates would not know until then and Abel was still worried. Would he be chosen? There were times that initiates were asked to stay on for another year or two of training. Yesterday, he had been talking with And and Tiloa, and they kept going on and on about their prospects. Apparently, they had both been approached by masters Olya Lu and Relan Baagran, respectively, about becoming their apprentices. Both were highly respected Jedi, with the human Olya Lu actually on the Jedi Council, and Twi’lek Relan Baagran, while still young, was being fast-tracked there as well. But no one had approached Abel. They tried to reassure him, but they didn’t know.  
The evening before the ceremony, Abel was walking in the garden behind the Temple where he had first met Master Yul. It seemed so severely different from that day. The plants, once so startling green, were just plants. The space, which had once seemed so mysterious, was a simple slab of sandstone. Abel walked the maze painted on the ground, but he never could seem to find the middle. After finding another dead end, he let out a “pah!”  
“Trying to walk the maze, are we? I would have thought you were a little tired of mazes.” Abel turned to find Master Yolin, enveloped in many cloaks, staring at him from under the shadow of the Temple. She descended to him.  
“I have never found this exercise to be particularly helpful,” she breathed.  
Well, I’ve never found your advice to be particularly helpful, Abel thought. He was torn between laughing to himself and admonishing himself.  
“Of course,” Master Yolin said, turning to him, “you think the same thing of me.” Her eyes twinkled. Abel stuttered, but she held up her hand.  
“No, you are right.” She sighed. “The mysteries of the Force are called so because they are, in fact, mysterious. And you have to accept that.”  
The grasses swayed in the light evening breeze.  
“But sometimes, in all this mystery, the way is straight to the heart.” And with a great leap, Master Yolin flew to the center of the maze, landing lightly on her feet. She turned to Abel, ushering him over, and he jumped the same.  
She let out a jolly cackle. “Have you ever stood here before?” Abel shook his head. He had never made it to the center. “But you stand here now. It helps to remember that you don’t always have to do things the winding way; or alone.”  
And with that, she strode across the painted lines and back into the Temple.  
Abel shook his head. He could never just have a normal conversation with her.  
.  
They stood chatting away by the shores of the shining lake until Master Kloop called them on. The ten initiates, impeccably groomed in their gray robes, trailed after her one by one.  
Master Kloop had told them it was traditional in this ceremony to start here by the lake and walk the path all the way up to the Temple. So they stepped lightly through the padded path of needles, by the great lawn of starships, and up the steep mountain path.  
This would be the last time walking up this path as an initiate, Abel thought to himself. Or, at least, he hoped.  
They rounded the bend with the great arching tree and came into sight of the Great Temple. The front lawn, usually covered with initiates of all ages, was empty. So too was the courtyard, whose fountains sprayed forlornly, the noise echoing off of the gray buildings.  
Tiloa nudged him and smiled. He smiled back.  
The doors of the Temple opened and they filed into the packed sanctuary, filled to the brim with younglings and Jedi knights. There was no clapping to greet them, but even the silence was filled with excitement as the younglings muttered amongst themselves. The ten initiates stood in a row in front of the raised dais. Master Yul got up to speak.  
“My young ones,” he said dearly, looking on them, “you overcome all manner of things to be here today. Some of you faced tragedy, some loss, others old truths, and some a whole new world.” He smiled on Abel. “Yet you all faced the Test; yes, the tests you took required skill, and the final test required all your power, but even greater than those, you have been tested your whole life here at the Academy. Understanding the Force, and its place in the world, and your place in the Force, is not an easy thing to do,” he said, nodding sagely. “The call is different in every person, and we as teachers learn from you just as you learn from us. It is a wonder to see what you have become.” He smiled at this. “It is times like these that I always feel my age,” he said, almost as an aside. “But know that this is but the close of one chapter of learning and the beginning of another. You will leave your comrades and embark on a new journey with an experienced Jedi, one who will hone your skills, but more importantly, help you to see your path.”  
“In the days of the Old Republic, younglings were often given a master at the age that we today begin to accept initiates here at the academy. There were many reasons Master Skywalker and his followers decided to change this, but one reason was so that you young Jedi may come to know others like yourself. So as you go forth with your new master, I urge you to never forget what you made here; the Jedi are an order, a community, and to loose the fabric of that community is to lose our greatest strength. The Force, above all, is connection between all living things. We, the Jedi, welcome you into our fold.”  
The master raised his hands out to them, smiling, then clasped them together.  
“Your masters will claim you now.”  
A strong woman with dark hair stepped forward.  
“I, Olya Lu, claim the initiate And Kino to be my apprentice.”  
And stepped forward. Abel had never seen his friend look so solemn before. The stone, only about the size of a baseball, rose from the ground as Master Lu, whose hands were relaxed behind her back, fulfilled the ritual. And took the stone with the Force and guided it to his outstretched hand with not so much as a wobble.  
Master Lu’s frown quirked into a sly smile. “Well done, my young padawan.” Abel could already tell that they’d make a good match. Master Lu took And’s new brown robe marking him as a Jedi and placed it over his shoulders.  
“You are now a Jedi” – she stuck a braid behind his ear – “apprentice.” She laughed and shook his shoulders while the rest of the room clapped.  
One by one, the initiates became Jedi until Abel was the last one left. Which was weird, because, alphabetically, I should have been selected earlier.  
He could tell something was wrong. Master Yul dropped back to confer with the other teachers. He saw Master Prada kept glancing his way, giving him worried looks. Abel began to breathe quickly. Looking over to his Jedi friends, most of them were conspicuously averting their gaze. Only Kyrana and Tiloa gave him comforting looks.  
Master Yul returned looking disheveled. “I am sorry, Abel, but – I really had thought – perhaps if we…” He turned back again to the masters and a tall human with dark hair who Abel had never seen before, simply shook his head. “You will have to come back with us…”  
But Abel didn’t really hear the rest. He never thought they would be this cruel. Let him get his hopes up, string him all the way here only to drop him in front of the whole school… The rock in his throat plummeted to his stomach where it sat and stewed.  
“That will not be necessary,” a voice spoke. He knew that voice.  
Master Ma Fenn strode onto the dais accompanied by a small feline Jedi.  
“My gravest apologies,” she said, bowing to both Master Yul and – to Abel’s surprise – to him. “Master Wi and I were unfortunately detained. But I am here to claim the initiate Abel Lasse to be my apprentice.”  
.  
It all happened so quickly that looking back on it, Abel found that he remembered little of it. He mostly remembered his head buzzing. But once he got control of his faculties, he performed the ritual of the stone – it was easy for him now that he knew he was on his way – and let Master Fenn drape him in the garb of the Jedi.  
The rituals complete, clapping sounded off the walls of the temple, and the party began in the outer hall. Standing beside his new master, Abel received congratulations from the other Jedi and their padawans. In an uncharacteristic display, Kyrana actually hugged him.  
“That was cruel. I am sorry you had to go through that,” she said sincerely to him, but he shrugged it off. “You earned it, Abel.”  
“You didn’t always think I would, though, did you?”  
“No,” she said matter-of-factly, “I did not. But I was wrong.”  
“Really? You were wrong? I have to write home about this.”  
She sniffed. “I admit my faults.” She looked a little miffed, then returned to a pleasant smile. “Anyways, good luck. I am excited. Master Wil is in charge of one of the largest Jedi homes in the galaxy, located in Eriadu.” Her face lit up as she said this.  
“I’m happy for you,” Abel said, and he meant it. He knew that Kyrana wanted, more than anything, to help people. “It’s funny that we both ended up with the only two Kel Dor Jedi for masters.”  
She shrugged. “I suppose.”  
“Yours certainly seems to fit,” Abel said, thinking about their shared passions. “And Master Fenn was the Jedi who brought me here. Did I ever tell you that?”  
She smiled and nodded. “Yes.”  
“But of course, I have no idea what she does.”  
Kyrana looked aghast. “Do you not know what Master Fenn does?”  
But right then, Master Fenn herself came up to them. “Padawans,” she said, and they greeted her. “This is Master Iril Theserleghbenwa of the Jedi Council.” The old Ithorian, straining, bowed low, and they bowed back. But then it clicked for Abel.  
“Wait, I saw you my first day at the Temple! It looked…like you were singing to a flower, or something.”  
Kyrana turned to look at Abel like he was crazy, but Master Iril just looked bemused.  
“Was I? It certainly sounds like me.” The squeaks coming out of his two Ithorian mouths made him sound a little like Donald Duck.  
“Do you…remember what you were doing?”  
“No. Ithorians always like our flowers. I often sing to them.” And he left it at that. Abel felt a little crestfallen. He had thought there was something mysterious about the way Master Iril had appeared with the flower then disappeared. He had thought of it when he went into the forest that day and really connected to the Force for the first time. But it was nothing more than a pleasant old fellow enjoying a flower.  
Master Wil had come up and was talking to her new padawan and Master Fenn. Abel had tuned out of their conversation and was looking absentmindedly at the Ray, still turning.  
“What color do you see?” Master Iril hobbled to his side.  
“Right now? A big bright orange.”  
Master Iril nodded. “As you should, I should think.”  
Abel turned to him. “Why? Does it mean something?”  
Master Iril just shrugged. “Not that I know. But it feels right.”  
Abel sighed violently. “I had thought… It always seems like you masters are so wise, but then you never seem to know anything.” It spilled out before Abel could stop it. He winced and looked at Master Iril who again looked bemused. “Sorry. But it’s just like this Ray, here. It seems important and seems like it’s going to hold answers, but all it does is turn and turn and change colors. It’s just a disco ball.”  
“Hmm. I don’t know what a…disco ball is, but everything else…yes!” He hopped a little. “Life is usually more questions than answers and masters are always learning just as padawans are. Did you listen to Elm’s speech?” Abel nodded and was about to protest, but Master Iril barreled on. “And while I understand, the comparison is unwarranted…between me and the Ray. We masters will usually try to point you in the right direction – unless we’re having fun.” He chuckled. “But the Ray is something else, something wild. You say it seems to hold answers…perhaps it does, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to give them to you, now does it?” Chuckling to himself, Master Iril hobbled away.  
.  
They left the next morning. One by one the masters came to take their padawans away. To where, they did not know. Abel woke up that morning in the same exact room he had occupied for his first two years. It looked the same as it had when he first arrived, completely bare of any personal items and impeccably clean. He couldn’t help but feel saddened by its barrenness. It had been his hideaway, his constant in this new wonderland. And now it had returned to its resting state, stripped clean for the next initiate, having already forgotten him.  
He remembered lying here when And pounded on his door, rousing him for a night of escapades in the forest. Abel touched the bed and smiled sweetly. Outside a yulier called, and the faint fresh scent of namiko wafted in through the open window. He would miss it.  
He had already said goodbye to all his teachers and friends the night before. Nak had been especially tough, grabbing him in a great bear hug when he had visited the farm. The sunflowers were in full bloom.  
The academy had returned to normal in their wake as Abel wove in and out of initiates in the courtyard practicing their various assignments. A stray stone came flying to his head and Abel stopped it in mid-air with the Force, returning it hovering to its owner. The little human girl mumbled a thank you, staring at him with fascination. Abel smiled at her and moved on.  
Back across the lawn, back beside the gnarled tree, back down the hill to the where he first arrived. He saw Master Fenn standing in front of the ramp on the nearest starship, a small ship barely half the size of the Millennium Falcon. He approached.  
“Hello again, my apprentice.” Under her mask, he could never tell if she was smiling or not. “Shall we?”  
“I don’t know. Where are we going?” She laughed her metallic laugh.  
“You will find out soon enough.” He made to go up.  
“Wait!” he heard from behind him.  
Kyrana was jogging lightly over to him. Looking over to his right, he saw that her Master Prim Wil was also awaiting her.  
Abel stepped off the ramp to meet Kyrana. She slowed and eventually stopped right in front of him. Now that she was there, it seemed she didn’t know what to say. She raised a hand to stroke her lek, but still looked right at him. They were so close, Abel could smell the faint fragrance of namiko floating from her skin. Finally, she offered her hand.  
Abel took it, grasping her forearm.  
“May the Force be with you, Jedi,” she said to him, her eye glinting.  
“And also with you,” Abel said.  
And with that, they turned from each other and to their respective Masters, ready to walk whatever path was in store for them.


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue  
It was the same ship that had taken him away from his home nearly two years ago. It was a newer model Pathfinder, the Jedi version of the A-24 scout ships designed for deep space exploration. Its sleek nose broadened to a wide back filled with sensors and shields, making it look like a great bird of prey. Abel wondered why they would need such a ship for their first flight together as master and apprentice.  
Master Fenn was strangely silent during the multi-day journey, refusing to speak outside of courtesies like “Good morning, young padawan,” and “Would you like some tea?” Abel had long ago learned patience at the Jedi Academy so he said nothing, accompanying his master in the bare sitting room filled with instruments of detection and dissection.  
He had tried very soon into the ride to take a peek at the target coordinates, but the master had locked the cockpit.  
It was therefore a very lonely ride, with only the metallic click of boots and the gentle hum of hyperspace for company.  
They arrived the next day as Abel, who had been napping on a cot in an alcove, felt the ship shudder out of hyperspace. He rubbed his eyes and looked out the window on the world of ice.  
“Ilum it is called,” Master Fenn said. They were looking out the forward windows of the cockpit, already touched down on the white world. Outside it was completely still; not a flake of snow stirred from the ground. “This is your final step to become my apprentice.”  
While Abel was getting a little sick of each seemingly “final step” in a never-ending Return-of-the-King-like fashion, this time he at least understood exactly what was to happen.  
“Yes, I know. Will you come with me?”  
“No. This you must do alone.”  
“I would say that I do not know what to look for. But I would expect you to say something like ‘you will know it when you see it.’” Abel frowned, but he could sense that Master Fenn was laughing to herself.  
“Quite so.”  
Abel crept into the cave carved into the wall of ice and started to search. For hours he wove through the endless tunnels, searching the stalactites and mites for the glinting light. He was reminded of that other cave on Tython, filled with those beautiful blue crystals. It had been much easier then, for they were strewn across the cave like glitter. His prize today was much rarer. Even with all those choices, he had still managed to cause a mess. He had almost gotten them killed. But today was different. He would be careful. He would be precise. And most certainly, he had no fear of what could be lying in wait in the cave.  
He did not find it that day, but he did not go back. He sat on the ground, finding a comfortable position, and closed his eyes. His breath came out in puffs of white, but as he sank lower and lower, it fell into a steady stream.  
He awoke many hours later and not a hair of him was touched with ice. When he opened his eyes, he realized he was in a great cavern. Like every inch of the tunnels, it was fully covered with ice. But what really got Abel to his feet was what was at the center. A great pillar stood there, a pillar of ice a meter thick. It had once been a separate stalactite and stalagmite, but they had formed one pillar together. Around it, other growths protruded from the ground and ceiling, and Abel had the distinct impression of a tree.  
And he saw not one but two glints. One came from a stalagmite near the pillar, the other hung from the ceiling.  
And now he had a choice that he never expected. Should he just claim the one on the ground? It was perfectly easy to go and pick it up. Or should he claim the one from the ceiling. It would require skill to get it; would that demonstrate his worthiness, a further bond with the crystal?  
Either way, one would be chosen, the other forfeited.  
“You say it seems to hold answers…perhaps it does, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to give them to you, now does it?”  
Abel glanced upward to the crystal of great height.  
“Sometimes, in all these mysteries, the way is straight to the heart.”  
He walked calmly up to the crystal on the ground, grasped it in his hand, and walked away.  
.  
He returned from the cave clenching the Kyber crystal in his tight fist. He found Master Ma Fenn sitting at the communal table sipping a cup of tea.  
“I have prepared the room for you,” she said. The scientific equipment had been pushed to the walls and in the center sat a plushy cushion and a pile of junk. But Abel recognized that small pile. “I took the liberty of obtaining your instruments from Master Djelsic. He assured me that they were in perfect working condition. You have practiced before?”  
“Yes…but I have never been successful.”  
“That is acceptable.” After placing her cup calmly on the table she rose from her seat and sank to the floor, folding her legs next to the pile opposite the cushion. “I will help you.”  
Abel took his appointed seat and placed his crystal into the pile. He shifted uneasily. Master Fenn was staring at him.  
“Are you afraid to begin?”  
“No…not afraid.” Abel bit his lip. “I just realized, I never did choose my Path.”  
His master grunted. “There’s still time for that yet. I will help you to discover it.”  
“What do you usually do master? How will I be spending my days?”  
“Hopefully with a little less questions,” Master Fenn grumbled. “But I spend my days doing the will of the Council.”  
“Everyone does, I know, but specifically.”  
She stared at him. “No, I mean to say that I am one of the twelve Council members. So you will attend Council meetings and accompany me on my missions and research.” She looked at him quizzically, probably expecting him to already have known this.  
Abel should have been excited. And deep down, he really was. But the first emotion to come was fear, and confusion was hot on its heels. He didn’t deserve the attention of one of the greatest living Jedi. He barely even deserved to have passed the Academy.  
“Why did you choose me?” He had finally asked the question he had been bursting to ask.  
“Because I believed I could teach you and you deserved to be taught. Why else does a teacher choose a student?”  
“Oh,” he said, a little disappointed. “I thought there was some reason. Something I had done. Something…great. Although, of course, I didn’t really know what it could be.”  
Her demeanor softened. She reached out and touched him. She seemed at a loss for words, but finally said, “The potential is always there.” Then she sat a little straighter. “You know, being humble is a trait little sought but highly valued in Jedi; it is a special person who is such. But when brought to excess, it can be indulging. It does little good to deny the greatness in you.”  
Abel felt color rise to his cheeks as the master indicated to him to begin.  
He closed his eyes and began to weave the junk in front of him into a dance. He could feel Master Fenn close by, helping to guide his hands. One part into another, the others swirling around like a mini solar system around the sun, the Kyber crystal in the center. Every time he’d feel his concentration waning, a helping hand was there to push him back.  
The last part clicked into place and he opened his eyes. The metal cylinder hung there before him, coated in its fine grip of brown leather.  
“Perfect,” his master said. Abel never thought anything he had made before was perfect. But staring at it floating there, glinting in the phosphorescent light, he couldn’t help but agree.  
“But it wasn’t just me,” he said. “You helped.”  
“Oh, my young padawan. These are never built by two, only by one, its master.”  
“But…I felt you, your presence.”  
“I calmed my mind to weave peaceful feelings, but nothing more.”  
“But it wasn’t just me. I could feel something else guiding my hands, something that kept pushing me in the right direction, helping me concentrate.”  
Ma Fenn laughed. “The Force? Yes, it flows through us.”  
Abel looked at his hands. The thought came to him: These are not my hands. The phrase repeated through him and he understood it. The Force was alive in him.  
He took the lightsaber from the air and ignited it. It flashed green, a biting, brilliant, everlasting green.  
.  
End Part 1 of Into the Force


End file.
